Breath of Fire
by kelleyj17
Summary: Cloud and Tifa are happy and Denzel and Marlene are growing up. Finally, they have the stability they so desperately needed. But when Cloud has a training accident with fire materia, Denzel begins to understand that his hero is not invincible. With unexplained monster attacks and teenage rivalries, the fragile community of Midgar Edge begins to erode. Gen.
1. Chapter 1 - Training

**Disclaimers** : All Final Fantasy 7 characters are the property of Square Enix.

 **Summary** : Cloud and Tifa are happy and Denzel and Marlene are growing up. Finally, they have the stability they so desperately needed. But when Cloud has a training accident with fire materia, Denzel begins to understand that his hero is not invincible. At the same time, the former "Geostigma Children" have not been left completely unscathed. With unexplained monster attacks and teenage rivalries, the fragile community of Midgar Edge begins to erode. Gen.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Training**

"Watch your feet, Denzel," Cloud called. "You've gotta keep them apart or your balance will be compromised."

Denzel stifled a grunt of frustration. He really was psyched that Cloud was training him how to fight and even letting him use First Tsurugi today, but did he have to be so critical and naggy?

Cloud walked casually up to the boy and disarmed him with an easy swing. Denzel ran after the sword and Cloud grimaced. "Denz, you can't turn your back on your opponent like that."

Gathering the sword with his face turned away, Denzel couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore. "It's just _you,_ Cloud. You're not going to hurt me."

Cloud pushed back blond spikes with his hand and leveled the boy with a stern look. "I thought you wanted to learn for real, Denzel. Otherwise we're just playing."

His young trainee instantly regretted his words. "I know, Cloud. I'm sorry. This is just frustrating."

"Do you want to call it quits for today?"

"No way!" Denzel wasn't sure when or even if Cloud would ever let him use his hallowed sword again, and he didn't want to give it up while he had it. "Can you show me how to split it? I'm just using it like a regular sword, and I can practice that with one of those." He gestured to the plain, worn practice sword in Cloud's hand.

Cloud frowned. Denzel had been begging to be allowed to train with the fusion sword, but he really wasn't ready for it. It was too heavy for him to swing effectively, and as a rule, Cloud didn't like to use it for training – the wear and tear it caused to the blade was reason enough, but it was also incredibly time consuming to clean it up afterwards. He'd agreed to let Denzel use it today, hoping it would be an incentive, because he could see the boy was getting bored and frustrated. But he didn't want him to learn any bad habits, and letting him swing around a too-heavy sword had made it hard for Denzel to pay attention to his stance and grip.

"Not until you get your footwork right," Cloud said. "Let's do it again."

Denzel knew he should feel privileged to have the hero of Midgar training him, and he was, but at the same time he was _just Cloud_. He'd raised him since he was a young kid, since before Denzel was old enough to understand the things he had accomplished before he was 25. Even so, he had practically worshipped the man who rescued him, who gave him a home and a family and a reason to live.

He loved the way he moved with a sword in his hand. He loved the ease with which he maneuvered Fenrir. Both were like an extension of his body, which he controlled as easily as breathing. Denzel loved the way he carried himself, the quiet way he protected the people he cared about. He loved the look of determination he got on his face, the unparalleled focus in battle.

But over time, Denzel had gotten…well, just _used_ to Cloud. He was a perceptive boy, and he had seen his flaws and his weaknesses. Denzel just didn't understand how someone of Cloud's abilities and accomplishments could still doubt himself so much.

Now Denzel was 12, had been training for months, and Cloud was still treating him like a kid who didn't know the blade from the hilt.

Still, he bit his lip and tried to focus on what Cloud was telling him. He endured when Cloud kicked at his feet to move them into the right position and adjusted his grip. He did want to be as good as his mentor someday, but he was impatient to get to the fun stuff. Why couldn't he just learn that stuff as he went along?

He was relieved when Tifa finally popped her head into the practice room. "You guys hungry?"

Cloud looked up at her. "We're still—"

"Starving!" Denzel interrupted, passing the sword to Cloud as he ran by.

"Denz, you can't just leave it—Ugh. Forget it." The boy was already gone.

Tifa gave the blond a sympathetic smile. "He's still a kid, Cloud. You've gotta cut him some slack."

He slid First Tsurugi into his harness, along with the worn and dented practice sword he'd been using. "He's the one who wanted to learn. If he's not even dedicated enough—"

"I know, I know," she interrupted. She walked over and mussed his blond spikes. "Not everyone can be as exceptional as you." She gave him a lingering kiss, watching the frustration melt from his face and grinning as she walked away. He never could stay angry when she did that.

* * *

Even though he hadn't been allowed to split the fusion sword, Denzel could hardly wait to tell his friends about it. After all, even in one piece it was a massive beast of a sword. They would have to be impressed that he could wield it at all.

Walking to school the next morning, he spotted the twins, Jason and Jesse, ahead of him.

"Hey guys, wait up!" Denzel called.

The boys looked back and waited as he jogged to catch up to them. "Hey Denzel," Jason said with a friendly smile.

Denzel only made it three steps before he had to tell them his news. "Hey, you guys remember how I told you that Cloud was training me to fight with swords? Well last night, I got to use First Tsurugi! It's this _huge_ sword, almost as big as me, super heavy, and it can be split into 6 smaller swords. It's _so_ cool."

Jesse scoffed. "That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. Why would anyone even need that? You can only use one sword at a time. Why would you need six? Does Cloud have six arms from all that mako or something?"

Denzel frowned. "Don't be stupid. Of course he only has two arms. He can use them both though, so sometimes he uses two swords at a time."

"Ok, fine, he can use two swords," Jesse said dismissively. "What's he gonna do with six?"

"Well, sometimes he—"

"And who's the sword maker?" Jason interrupted. "Who would even think to make something like that, and who would buy it? No one would! There's no point."

Denzel was frustrated. This conversation was not going at all the way he had expected. "He made it himself," he said, scowling.

Jesse laughed mockingly. "Oh, now he's a blacksmith, too? He must just be a delivery boy for the money, then." Jason cackled like it was the funniest thing he ever heard.

"And what's with his name?" Jesse continued. " _Cloud_. Is he light and fluffy?"

"It's…just a name," Denzel muttered. "It's not like he picked it out himself."

They finally reached the school, and Denzel was relieved to have an excuse to get away from them. _What's their problem today, anyway?_ They weren't usually quite so toxic, but they seemed to get a little salty whenever Cloud came up.

* * *

Because Denzel had run off and left the swords without cleaning or oiling them, Cloud had told him he wouldn't be allowed to use Tsurugi until he 'learned to take care of his things.' He had handed Denzel a beat-up practice sword and went back to their drills. The boy was annoyed and impatient, making beginner mistakes on things that he should have already mastered.

After a short practice, where both boy and man became increasingly irritated with each other, Cloud knocked the sword from his hand with more force than usual and stopped Denzel before he could retrieve it. "Your head's not in this today, Denz. There's no point in practicing right now." With a stern look, he held his practice sword out to the teenager. "You owe me for last time. Clean these up right."

Denzel took the sword with a scowl, sticking his tongue out at Cloud's back as he left the room. He knew it was childish, but he didn't care. He was fuming. He dragged his feet across the soft dirt floor and glared at the worn-out practice sword that had been knocked from his hand. Didn't Cloud remember what it was like to be a kid? He didn't have to be so hard on him all the time.

He swung half-heartedly at the sword on the ground with the one in his hand. It made a satisfying _clang_ sound. Denzel always seemed to be on the receiving end of that sound, usually losing his grip on the handle whenever he heard it. It felt good to be the one sending out the vibrations of the clashing metal. He swung harder, sending the sword flying into the wall. He imagined that it was a real battle, that the battered sword was an actual monster, and he smacked it around the room with his own sword.

 _The monster roared in pain with each well-placed strike and swatted at Denzel, but the boy easily dodged his clumsy swipes. He rolled between the monster's legs and made another perfect slash on its belly, then pounced on its back, knocking it down with a hard smack of the hilt on its head._

 _He pounded the thoroughly battered creature to a pulp on the ground with a satisfying cacophony of sound. He raised his arms over his head in victory and danced around the fallen beast._

Smiling at his own imaginary fight, Denzel found that some of his anger had abated. He picked up the swords and took them into the back room to clean them. Despite his frustration, he really did want Cloud to be proud of him. He thoroughly cleaned and oiled the blades as he had been taught. As he was finishing the second sword, his cloth caught on something. Peering closer, Denzel tensed when he saw the small chip in the materia slot in the base of the blade. He swore out loud, knowing that neither of the adults were near enough to hear him. He probably shouldn't have been batting the sword around like that.

 _Who cares?_ he thought. _Why does Cloud have to be so picky about them anyway? He has so many. I bet he won't even notice._ He felt some of his anger returning. _And he'll probably never let me practice with materia anyway, at the rate we're going._ Even so, Denzel put the sword up on to the rack with the materia slots facing the wall. Just in case.

* * *

It had been several months since Denzel had committed his transgression with First Tsurugi. He had all but given up hope of being allowed to use it again when Cloud walked out of the back room with the giant sword in his hand. Denzel watched him hopefully. Cautiously, his mentor offered the hilt to him. His eyes lit up as he took it reverently.

"You're letting me use it today? Awesome! I swear I'll take good care of it, Cloud. I'll clean it up really good and everything." He held the sword up steadily and bounced on the balls of his feet.

Cloud smiled down at him fondly. "I know you will. But remember, you'll have to separate all 6 blades and clean them individually. That's why I usually don't use it for practice."

"Does that mean you're going to teach me how to split it?" The eagerness was overflowing.

His lips quirked. "I suppose I'll have to, won't I?"

Denzel was almost bursting out of his skin with excitement.

"Ok. The first latch is right here. This will let you take off the smaller side blades." Cloud popped it off easily, catching both blades. "See? And then to put it back together –" he snapped them quickly back in place. "Now you try."

Determination warring with excitement, he pulled at the latch he'd seen Cloud use, but it didn't budge. He gritted his teeth, pulling harder. "It's stuck!"

Cloud reached over and snapped it easily. "Like that."

Snapping them back into place, he held it out to Denzel again. The boy tried again, positioning his hands exactly the way Cloud did. He used all of his strength, cognizant of the man watching him closely.

"Maybe you're not quite strong enough yet," Cloud said.

Although he'd said it kindly, tears burned behind Denzel's eyes. Shame ate away at him and he redirected his frustration, suddenly furious at the glowing blue eyes. "Of course it's easy for you!" he spat.

Taken aback by the venom in the kid's voice, Cloud raised his eyebrows.

Denzel's eyes narrowed on his. "I know why your eyes glow the way they do. Jesse told me. He said that people who were in SOLDIER got mako injections to make them stronger and faster. He said they don't do them anymore though, so no one else can even touch those people. I'm _never_ gonna be as strong as you, no matter how much I practice! I shouldn't even bother." He shoved the sword back at Cloud and stalked out of the room, determined not to let him see the tears.

Cloud sat there in silence, staring at his sword. He hadn't thought about the mako in a long time. It was just a part of him, something he couldn't change. Even if mako injections were still possible, he would never subject the kid to that treatment. The mako caused cellular mutation, which prevented the rejection of the Jenova cells. Although few outside of ShinRa knew it, the Jenova cells were actually what gave SOLDIERs their strength; mako was just a catalyst, and the distinctive glow in their eyes was a bi-product of the mako. No one knew what the long term effects might be, but he doubted it was anything good; most people in that line of work didn't live long enough to find out. Besides that, it had been agonizingly painful, like acid eating away from the inside and the outside of his body at the same time.

His heart ached for the kid, though. He knew how it felt to be small and weak. He sighed and stood up, dusting off his pants. There wasn't much cleaning to do, since they hadn't even started practicing, but Cloud took his time putting away the equipment and straightening the room. He needed some time to figure out what to say, and he wanted to give Denzel some time to cool off.

Denzel closed himself in his tiny bedroom, wanting to be alone for a while. At least he didn't have to share it with Marlene anymore. Cloud had insisted on putting up another wall last year, splitting the small room into two and adding a second door from the hallway. He had told Tifa it wasn't appropriate for them to share a room anymore. He had given her that _look_ , and Tifa seemed to understand whatever Cloud was saying with his eyes. Denzel really hated when they did that – communicated without words. They understood each other, but neither of the kids ever did. As far as Denzel was concerned, if they needed to say something private to each other, then they should be talking in private.

Denzel had begged to be given Cloud's office. Cloud always slept in Tifa's room now anyway. But Tifa said they still needed the office, and that adults needed space to themselves sometimes, too. Cloud had given him a little smile and told him he could sleep in there whenever it wasn't being used. It wasn't the same though. It wasn't Denzel's own space.

At least in his tiny room he could have some privacy without Marlene barging in. He plopped down on the bed and grabbed his headphones, blasting the loudest, angriest music he had. It fueled his anger as he thought about how unfair life was. Why was he even bothering to learn this stuff? He'd never use it for real, and there was no way he would ever be as strong or as good as the hero who had saved the planet. What was the point?

By the time Cloud poked his head in the door, Denzel was even more worked up. He ripped the headphones off. "Don't you know how to knock?" he demanded rudely.

From the look on Cloud's face, Denzel knew he had gone too far. Cloud wasn't terribly strict, but he didn't tolerate disrespect. The boy shrank back. "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Rubbing his face wearily, Cloud sighed. "It's ok. And for the record, I _did_ knock. You probably just couldn't hear it over…that." He nodded in the direction of the headphones with a scowl. He didn't like it when Denzel listened to that kind of garbage, but he knew he had to choose his battles, so he decided to pretend that his enhanced hearing wasn't picking up every poisonous lyric.

But the music was still blaring through the discarded headphones and Cloud didn't want it as the backdrop for their conversation, so he reached over and flipped it off. Denzel smothered the new tendril of irritation. Why did he have to barge in here and touch all his stuff?

"So…do you want to talk about this?" Cloud asked tentatively, settling on the foot of the bed.

Denzel scoffed. "What's there to talk about? It's not like we can change anything. Even if I train every day, I'm never gonna be strong like you." His stomach burned as he glared up at Cloud. "You have no idea what it feels like to try so hard and always fail."

Cloud looked surprised. "You're not failing at anything, Denz. You're learning fast. But it takes time and practice to get really good at something."

The boy scowled. "Not for you. I bet everything was always easy for you."

The corners of Cloud's mouth twitched. That was a new one. He scratched his head and looked down at Denzel's dark blue quilt. Tifa had spent months making it for his last birthday, and he'd been thrilled to finally get rid of the childish bedspread that matched Marlene's. Tifa showed her love to the kids in a million little ways, but Cloud always struggled to express himself. Did they even know how much they meant to him? He ran his hands over the soft quilt now as he searched for the right words.

Cloud never talked about his childhood. It was painful for him. He couldn't think of his mother without remembering how she had looked when he couldn't save her from the fire. He couldn't think of the kids with whom he'd grown up (excluding Tifa, of course) without feeling the shame and anger he always battled with back then. He had never really come to acceptance with his past, but he had learned how to keep it shoved into a dark corner of his mind. Staying out of the past and living in the present kept him sane.

But now Denzel needed to hear it, so he dredged it out into the light. He started hesitantly. "Did I ever tell you that I used to get picked on all the time when I was a kid?"

Denzel's eyes grew wide. Who would be stupid enough to pick on Cloud Strife? "Did they have a death wish?"

Cloud chuckled lowly. "Nah. I wasn't much of a threat back then. I was a lot smaller than the other kids. I didn't have many friends either. They all…thought I was weird." The look in his eyes was distant as he traveled into Nibelheim of the past. "I was miserable. By the time I was your age, I couldn't wait to get out of town. I wanted to prove I wasn't the weakling they thought I was."

Denzel was still skeptical. "But you made it into SOLDIER! Didn't you have to be like… the best of the best to get in?"

Cloud smiled sadly as he rubbed his neck self-consciously. "Yes, you did have to be the best of the best. That's why…" he took a deep breath and caught Denzel's eye, "I never made it."

Denzel's mouth dropped open. He had always believed Cloud had been a SOLDIER. His and Tifa's friends made references to it all the time. In retrospect, he supposed that Cloud himself had never actually said it, but he'd never made a point to set the record straight, either.

Cloud looked wistful as he traced his fingers restlessly over the quilt. "I worked so hard. I think I wanted it more than anyone else there. I spent so much extra time training while the others were goofing off. I was pretty good with my sword, but I didn't have the strength or size to join SOLDIER." He shrugged. "Maybe if I'd have a few more years, but…"

His eyes darkened for a moment and he shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. "Anyway, the point is, it took me a lot of work and a lot of years to get to where I am. And if you want to get here, it will for you too. I'm not going to go easy on you, because I can see you have potential, but you'll never reach it if you don't push yourself. So…just hang in there, ok?"

Grudgingly, Denzel allowed a small smile. "Ok. I guess so."

After Cloud let himself out of the room, Denzel put his hands behind his head and leaned back on the bed. He tried to imagine Cloud being small and weak, or anyone daring to pick on him, but he just couldn't see it. Was he really telling the truth, or just trying to make Denzel feel better? And if he didn't get into SOLDIER, why did his eyes have that mako glow?

He was starting to feel that itch in his head, so Denzel pulled out his sketchpad. He flipped to a clean page and started a new drawing. It was Cloud, looking as vibrant and powerful as ever, but with a red tinge to his normally bright blue irises. His hands were held out, palms up, with a tongue of flame resting on each one. Denzel smiled, thinking this one was easy enough to interpret. Cloud must be getting ready to teach him to use magic.

After their talk, Denzel felt much better about his training. He didn't mind as much when Cloud corrected him, and he found that it was easier to remember all the details when he let go of his anger.

He was getting much stronger, too, his body developing muscle tone, no longer resembling that of a child. He was 13 and tall for his age, nearly as tall as Cloud. The man who had taken him in had always seemed larger than life to Denzel, but he realized now that he wasn't very big at all. It was just his presence that made it seem so to the small boy.

He could now parry most of his mentor's attacks and he felt good about it. Even better was the day when they sat in the equipment room, cleaning up their swords together.

"You know," Cloud said, considering the boy solemnly, "I think you're ready to move on to some more advanced topics. What do you think?"

Denzel's eyes lit up. "Yes!" he cried emphatically. "Can we…uh, maybe start with materia?"

Cloud looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I think you're ready for it. Tifa should teach you though. She's a natural with materia. Learn how to use it from your bracer, and when you're ready, we can practice with it in our weapons."

"Yes!" He dropped his sword and clobbered Cloud with a hug, the first he'd given freely in a very long time. "Can I go ask her now?"

Cloud smiled into the boy's shirt. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll finish cleaning these up."

With a huge grin on his face, Denzel galloped out of the room to go find Tifa.

* * *

Tifa _was_ a good teacher. She was also very patient, which was a good thing, because Denzel was trying her patience already. He was squirmy and unfocused. If he'd been working with Cloud, the session would have ended in frustration much earlier.

To Denzel's annoyance, Marlene had begged to be allowed in on the lessons too. Even though she was two years younger than him, even though he had spent over a year training before they would even consider letting him use it, the adults had decided she was ready to learn. She had accidentally used materia once, healing a cut on her hand when she'd been putting away some of Tifa's Cure materia. Cloud said she obviously had an affinity for healing magic, and since she was so mature for her age, they should start teaching her right away.

"Try again, Denzel." Tifa's voice dragged his thoughts back to the present. They were both sitting cross-legged on the floor of the training room, facing each other, but Denzel had far too much energy to sit still.

"I can't," Denzel groaned. It was a hot day, and the windows of the training room were open, letting in a slight breeze to cool the stifling heat. He could smell food being cooked somewhere and his stomach growled loudly. He heard Cloud working on Fenrir out back and kids arguing loudly nearby. "There are too many distractions to do this right now."

Tifa considered him thoughtfully. "Denzel, you wanted to learn how to use materia in battle. Do you really think your enemy will sit quietly and wait for you to calm your mind? You need to learn to control yourself, _especially_ when you're distracted. In a fight, you may have only seconds between attacks. You may need to cure yourself when you're in a lot of pain. You may need to keep fighting even when it looks like your friends have been mortally wounded. Learn to quiet the noise in your head and _listen_."

Denzel sighed and closed his eyes, taking up the position she had taught him.

"Your mind should be completely blank, so you almost forget about the materia completely," Tifa said. "When it's that clear, you should be able to hear the voices from the Lifestream."

One of Denzel's eyes popped open. "How do you know when you're hearing them?"

Tifa looked thoughtful as she decided how best to describe it. "To me, it sounds more like a crackle. I don't understand the words, but I know it's them."

So far, Denzel hadn't heard a peep from the Lifestream. He thought he had heard a low murmur once, only to realize that it actually _was_ a low murmur – coming from the bar.

Marlene sat there quietly, presumably listening intently to the voices speaking to her. She opened her eyes and looked at Denzel. "I can practically feel the frustration coming off of you in waves."

He gave her an evil glare, but she was undeterred.

"You know what I do when I need to calm down?" she asked cheerfully. "I think about that day in Costa Del Sol with Cloud and Tifa and Daddy and all of their friends. You remember that day?"

The memory made Denzel smile. "Yeah. We played volleyball on the beach. Yuffie tried to cheat and use magic to coat the ball in ice, and then when she tried to spike it, the whole thing just shattered."

"Yep," Marlene giggled. "Then we buried Daddy in the sand and made a huge castle on top of him and told him he couldn't move because he would break it."

"And Cloud taught us how to swim!" Denzel added. "Or at least he tried to, but he didn't really know how to do anything but doggy paddle."

"And then you and I got on Cloud and Daddy's shoulders and played chicken!" Marlene said.

Tifa joined in, laughing. "Those two were so competitive that they kept demanding rematches, until the two of you got bored and left, and then they kept going by themselves."

By the time Tifa and the kids finally stopped laughing, Denzel had totally forgotten his frustration with meditation. Marlene brought his attention back to it. "Ok, now the important part. I think about that night, when we all sat on the beach under the stars and watched the waves rolling in. The adults were drinking beer and talking, and they let us stay up late with them."

Denzel closed his eyes and remembered. _The air was finally beginning to cool after the long, hot day. Cloud had been sitting on the sand with his arms resting on his bent knees, and Denzel sat in front of him, between his legs. The adults' conversation was boring him and the lull of the waves were making him sleepy, and he had started leaning against one of the legs bracketing him. Cloud had leaned forward and spoken softly in his ear. "Getting tired, buddy?" Denzel shook his head and sat up straight, afraid they would make him go inside and go to bed, but after a few minutes, he was slouching against his leg again. Cloud had put that leg down so Denzel could use it as a pillow, and had rested his hand on Denzel's head. The sand under his body had cooled with the air, but Cloud's hand was warm and heavy. It covered his ear and muffled the sound of the adults' voices into a comforting murmur. The last thing he remembered from that night was thinking that there was nowhere in the world safer than he was at that moment._

He smiled gently at the memory. That's when he heard the scratching sound – the voices of the Lifestream.

* * *

From that point on, Denzel was able to progress quickly. He had been relieved to learn that Marlene's affinity was really only for curing and support materia. Although she wasn't as competitive as her brother and not particularly bothered that her attack magic was weak – she claimed that she didn't actually want to fight anyway – his confidence was boosted by the fact that he was better than her at _something_.

On the first day, Tifa had met him in the training room, carrying a yellow stone that was about the size of a golf ball.

 _"What's that?" Denzel questioned. It looked like materia, but he had never seen one that color before._

 _Tifa held it up for his inspection. "It's command materia. See, you can tell what type it is because of its color."_

 _Denzel frowned. "Ok, but how do you know what kind of command materia?"_

 _"For that," Tifa explained, "you need to learn to hear the voices in the Lifestream. You can only tell the type by looking at it. That's why you should always stop and listen when you buy new materia. Especially if the store sells a wide variety of products, the shopkeepers don't always know how to listen to it, so they just have to take the word of their supplier. I learned that the hard way once." Tifa grimaced._

 _Her expression made Denzel curious. "Really? What happened?"_

 _"I bought a Flare materia once," Tifa explained. "It was really expensive, but they're so hard to find that I had to get it. The others were leaving, so I bought it and ran to catch up with them. When we got to the campsite I was so excited to try it out, and that's when I realized it was just Fire. But by then, the marketplace had already closed. I wanted to return it the next day, but we needed to leave early in the morning. The others convinced me that the shopkeeper probably wouldn't have believed me or taken it back anyway." She shrugged. "Lesson learned."_

 _A new thought struck Denzel. "But if you can't understand the voices, how do you know what kind of materia it is?"_

 _Tifa put her finger to her lower lip and tapped it thoughtfully. "It's hard to explain. It's more of a feeling. You just know how to use it, and each element has a different feel to your body. Once you get used to some different kinds, you'll start to recognize them."_

Now that Denzel had tried so many different kinds of materia, he knew exactly what Tifa meant. He just _knew._

Cloud was also pleased that the boy was making so much progress. He seemed much more focused and committed now, and not so frustrated all the time. Their relationship was much less strained and they both enjoyed the training sessions.

By the time his 13th year was coming to a close, Denzel had become pretty skilled with both the sword and the materia in his bracer. Cloud had drilled the basics into him until they were automatic, and Denzel grudgingly acknowledged that it was easier to focus on sword technique when his muscle memory handled those other details.

Finally, Cloud judged him ready to use materia in his weapon. He came to the equipment room with several of the small stones in his pockets. He tossed a green one to Denzel, along with a practice sword with a couple of slots. Denzel's eyes lit up. "We're going to use materia today?"

"If you want," Cloud said.

"Of _course_ I want! I've been waiting for ages!"

"Good. The first thing you need to learn is Barrier." He showed Denzel how to slot it in his sword. "I want you to put up a magic barrier and I'll shoot some ice at you. It will still hurt a little if it hits you, but not bad. Ok?"

Denzel slumped his shoulders. "I thought I was actually going to _do_ something with magic."

Cloud talked over his shoulder as he walked into the training area. "You _are_ doing something with magic. Just not attacking with it. Even an unstoppable offense is worthless if you never get a chance to use it."

Denzel dragged his feet all the way out to the practice room. It was another one of Cloud's meaningless platitudes of which he seemed to have an endless supply, but didn't seem to actually follow himself. He scowled but said nothing. Once they reached the center, he focused his mind and cast his shell. It took several seconds, longer than he would like, but at least it was up. "Ready."

Lifting the sword behind his head, Cloud's face became a mask of concentration as the metal of the blade glowed blue. He swung the sword down lightly in Denzel's direction, sending a wave of blue along the ground. The ice spell was slow and low-powered, and Denzel was prepared for it, but the amount of the spell that made it past his barrier still stung more than he expected.

"Agh!" Denzel took a step back voluntarily, cringing as it hit him.

"You ok?" Cloud called.

"Yeah, just…that cold really stings." He shook his hands, trying to get feeling back into his fingertips.

His eyes hiding a smirk, Cloud asked, "Well why did you just stand there and let it hit you?"

Denzel blinked at him. "Wasn't I supposed to?"

"Of course not. If you can dodge out of the way in time you won't have to feel it at all."

The boy scowled at him. "That would have been nice to know 5 minutes ago."

"I guess I figured common sense would kick in," Cloud laughed. He quieted when he saw the look on Denzel's face. "No, really, most people instinctively avoid pain." He shrugged and gave him a small smile. "Maybe you're braver than most."

After some consideration, Denzel decided to take that as a compliment.

"Now I'm going to launch several of them at you. Keep your shell up, but try to dodge out of the way if you can." Cloud raised the sword over his head again. Denzel bent his knees into the fighting stance that had been drilled into him.

Cloud's sword came down slightly faster this time, casting three ice spells in a row, a second apart in a wide arc. Denzel easily dodged those, so then he sent out 5 spells, a little closer together. The boy really was pretty quick, and Cloud started to vary the speed and distance as he continued lofting the light spells his way.

Denzel was ducking and rolling, avoiding the worst of the ice, but a few got past his barrier. He was starting to get worn out and losing the feeling in his fingers, so he called "Stop!" and dropped his barrier.

Cloud lowered his sword. "What's wrong?"

The boy's shoulders drooped. "My magic barrier must not be very good. I need to go thaw out."

His teacher shrugged. "Your barrier looks fine, but it's not meant to stop spells completely, only to dampen the effect. The good news is that you don't usually have to depend on shell alone, but it's good to have it up in case you can't dodge or block it."

"Block?" Denzel asked, perking back up. "How do you block magic?"

Cloud smiled at the boy's renewed interest. "Let's take a break so you can thaw your fingers. Then I'll show you."

Denzel bounced around and wiggled his body to get the blood flowing back into the parts suffering from the worst of the ice. By the time Cloud came back and tossed him a bottle of water from the kitchen, Denzel was ready to go again.

"Feeling better?" Cloud asked as the boy tipped back the water.

Denzel took several more swallows before lowering the bottle and wiping his face with the back of his wrist. "I guess so. The thing is, I was excited to be casting magic, not to have it cast _at_ me."

"Hm," Cloud intoned. "So you're planning to do battle with a lot of trees, then?"

Denzel shot him a withering look. "Of course not. I mean, I knew it would hurt, but…"

"But now you're willing to go to a lot more effort to avoid getting hit at all?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Good," Cloud said approvingly. "Then you're ready to learn about blocking." He pulled a piece of materia out of his pocket and tossed it to Denzel. "Here. Put this in your other weapon slot."

Denzel caught the stone and listened as Tifa had taught him. "Fire!" Denzel exclaimed, perking up. " _This_ is what I've been waiting for."

"You block by attacking with the opposite element," Cloud explained. "If the spells hit, they will cancel each other out instead of hitting you."

While the teen pressed the stone into the other slot in his sword, Cloud continued. "Now you launch some fire at me, and I'm going to block it with ice. Ready?"

Denzel lifted his sword above his head the way Cloud had shown him. The metal glowed red and he swung it at the ground in Cloud's direction. The red wave moved slowly and the man barely had to flick his wrist to send out the small ice wave. The red and blue waves crashed into each other, sending a small plume of magenta into the air before fizzling out. It was not exactly awe-inspiring.

Scowling, Denzel repositioned himself and launched another red wave, swinging his arm down hard. It was larger this time, but it fizzled out before it even reached his opponent.

"Swinging harder won't make the spell travel any faster," Cloud coached him. "That has to be done with your mind. Hold it a bit longer so it builds up in strength before you bring the sword down. Move your body forward as you release it, not just your arm, and it will move faster."

Denzel nodded and focused on everything his teacher was telling him. He counted to three as he held it above his head, and then lunged forward as he released it.

His eyes widened as he watched the exponentially larger red wave shooting toward the blond man. Cloud flicked his wrist harder, matching the size of the fire spell with his ice. The magenta plume was spectacular that time, shooting high into the air.

Denzel whooped loudly at the brilliant display. When the light had died down and there was only a thin veil of smoke in the air, he looked over at his mentor. Cloud was just watching him with a slight curve of his lips, the tiny unguarded smile that Denzel had learned meant contentment.

The smile was gone too soon, though. Cloud went back into business mode. They continued to practice casting and blocking, with some dodging thrown in when it was possible. He had told Denzel to dodge whenever he could, especially when the spell covered a smaller area, because he had a limited amount of energy to spend on casting spells.

Back in the equipment room at the end of their session, Cloud was explaining how they were able to keep track of how much energy they had left.

"When we were out on missions and fighting all the time, we came up with a number system to keep track of how much capacity we had each day. We called them magic points, and assigned point values to each spell, depending on how much it taxed your system, so that we could pace ourselves and make sure we didn't get too weak to cast when we were only halfway through the day."

The boy looked at him like he was being deliberately dense. "Why wouldn't you just use ether?"

Cloud shrugged. "We did, but it was expensive and we didn't always have it. Even if we did, it was important to know how much capacity we'd used up and how much more we planned to use so we didn't waste it."

Denzel furrowed his brow. "Does everyone have the same…umm…capacity?"

Cloud kept his eyes on the blade he was currently oiling. "No, but we did it so often that we were able to figure out our own capacities. And of course we all got stronger over time so we were always adjusting the number."

"Sounds too much like math homework," Denzel complained.

He earned a quiet laugh from Cloud. "Believe it or not, Denz, you do actually learn some useful things in school."

* * *

Later that night, the kids sat at the table finishing their homework. Cloud and Tifa were in the kitchen together, getting dinner ready. Their conversation was a quiet murmur drifting under the swinging door. Marlene had set down her pencil and was staring dreamily into space.

"Uh, Marlene?" Denzel poked her arm. "What are you doing?"

"Shh! Just listen!"

Denzel sat quietly and listened for a few seconds before getting impatient. "I can't understand a word they're saying."

Marlene looked at him like he was being ridiculous. "The words don't matter, Denz, just listen to the tone!"

He closed his mouth and listened again. Their voices sounded happy, and their conversation was interspersed with laughter. It _was_ a bit unusual. Cloud so rarely laughed, and he had never been the type to speak just to hear his own voice. Denzel shrugged and went back to his homework. "I guess they're in a good mood today."

Marlene continued listening, enjoying the warm feeling she was getting. She wondered if her parents had ever sounded like that. She had been too young to even remember them at the time they died, but she liked to imagine that they were happy and in love. Then it got completely quiet. It stretched into minutes, and she decided Cloud must have gone out the back door and left Tifa to cook by herself. Since she would no longer be interrupting their happy conversation, it seemed like a good time to see if one of them could help her with the math problem she'd been stuck on before she started daydreaming.

She pushed open the swinging door and poked in her head. The words caught in her throat before she could make a sound. She _was_ interrupting, but they weren't talking anymore. Tifa sat on the counter with the back of her head against the cupboard. Cloud stood in front of her, between her knees, with his arms wrapped around her. Tifa had one hand on his face and the other in his hair, and they were kissing. Not like a "have a nice day honey" peck, but a real smooch. A pan simmered on the stove, forgotten.

Marlene backed out quietly and returned to the table, smiling. Denzel looked up when she sat down. "How long until we eat? I'm starving."

"I don't know. I didn't ask," Marlene said casually.

Denzel sighed and got up, heading toward the kitchen himself.

"No, wait! Denzel, don't!" Marlene hissed as she chased after him.

She was too late. He smacked opened the swinging door with his shoulder and strolled right in. Tifa banged her head on the cupboard, hard, and Cloud backed up so fast that he was halfway across the kitchen before Marlene even saw him.

Denzel stood there and blinked foolishly at them. "Uh…I was just um…are we going to eat soon?"

Cloud was leaning against the counter on the far side of the kitchen, trying to look casual, and Tifa's face was bright red as she cleared her throat and blinked rapidly. "Yes. Five minutes. Can you guys clear off the table please?"

"Sure…" Denzel said, turning around slowly. Marlene waited until the door had swung shut behind them before smacking him in the head.

* * *

Cloud slotted his materia in his sword and tossed one to Denzel. He listened to the stone for a moment. "You're giving me ice today?"

"Yeah," Cloud said. "They all feel a little different, so you should get used to them all."

Denzel shrugged and pressed the ice materia into his weapon.

"Show me how fast you can cast ice, Denz. The fire will hurt a lot more if you can't block it, so…"

Denzel nodded and sent several blasts of ice in Cloud's direction. Ice must be the kid's natural element – it seemed to come easier to him.

Cloud sent a few lazy blasts of fire off and Denzel blocked them easily, his blue waves making it more than halfway between them before smashing into the red. "Good!" Cloud said proudly. "Your casting time is getting better, and that's important because your enemy won't always be so far away. Now take 3 steps toward me."

Gradually, they moved closer together, allowing less time to react with each step forward. Finally they were at striking distance again. Cloud put his sword up in an attack stance toward Denzel and motioned for the boy to do the same. "You can hit and cast at the same time. It's a devastating combination, very hard to block, but you have to be careful not to let the spell be misdirected when your sword strikes. Put up a magic barrier, just in case, and try it on me."

Denzel took a deep breath to steady himself, suddenly feeling nervous. "Are you going to try to block it?"

"No, not when we're this close." Cloud smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about me."

Denzel held the sword over his head and listened for the scratching noises. He held it for a few seconds longer, letting it build, and then swung it down.

Cloud parried the strike, and Denzel had the satisfaction of realizing that for once he was on the giving side of that vibrating clang. He had also felt the ice leave his sword, and he was pretty certain it went the right direction. He looked up to see his trainer's reaction, but the look on his face was unexpected. It was startled, almost scared – an expression he had never seen on the warrior. Cloud's face was turning red and he dropped his sword, clutching a hand at his throat.

"Hey! Are you ok?" Denzel tried to grab his arm to get his attention, but Cloud didn't even look at him. Instead, he dropped to the ground on his hands and knees.

Denzel dropped down next to him. "Cloud? What's wrong? Cloud!" His eyes were bulging, unfocused. His face was getting alarmingly close to purple now and Denzel suddenly understood – he couldn't breathe! He tried not to panic. How was he supposed to help him? What could have caused it? Surely not his ice spell. _Tifa. I have to get Tifa!_

Denzel raced out into the bar area where Tifa was rewashing glasses that Yuffie had carelessly swiped at from the night before. "Tifa! Something's wrong with Cloud!"

Tifa didn't ask any questions. She dropped the glass she had been holding, ignoring the shattering crystal on the floor behind her, and sprinted in the direction from which Denzel had come.

He ran behind her, losing ground to her astonishingly fast pace, but it didn't matter. She knew where to find Cloud. As Denzel burst through the training room a few seconds behind her, he heard the sound of Cloud's jagged coughing. Tifa slid to her knees next to him and supported his upper body with her shoulder while he tried to cough up a lung.

Denzel's eyes were huge and his voice shook as he ran up next to them. "I don't know what happened! I think I hit him with some ice, but he said it would be ok…"

Tifa shook her head grimly. "This isn't from an ice spell."

His coughing finally subsiding, Cloud drew in ragged breaths while Denzel watched anxiously. "Denzel, go get him some water," Tifa said.

Denzel nodded and ran off to get the water. When he returned, Cloud was breathing a little easier and his face was almost back to his usual pale color. He gratefully took the water from Denzel and drank it all while the other two watched him.

Tifa was rubbing his back now. "Cloud, what happened? Are you going to be ok?"

"I'm ok," Cloud said hoarsely. "I choked on…" He shook his head. "..something. I finally swallowed it, but it really burned on the way down."

Burning with anxious energy and needing to do something useful, Denzel picked up their practice swords. He popped the ice and barrier materia out of his and then turned his attention to Cloud's. All of the slots were already empty. "Um, did you take out that fire materia? I can put it away. I—I'll clean up in here."

Cloud looked up at him. His eyes were still watering, and the tears magnified the bright blue irises. "I don't have it," he rasped.

Denzel looked back at the empty materia slot. He scanned the ground, looking for the telltale flash of green. It finally caught his eye, and he felt a rock drop into the pit of his stomach as he picked it up. It had split into several pieces, and as he gathered together all he could find, it quickly became obvious that not all the pieces were there.

All three of them seemed to come to a realization at the same time, but at first they could only stare at the fragmented stone in his hand.

Tifa was the one to finally voice it. "Cloud…I think you swallowed materia."


	2. Chapter 2 - The Fighter

**Chapter 2 - The Fighter**

The silence following Tifa's pronouncement echoed through all of them. She was the first to snap out of it and take charge. "It'll be ok," she said, her voice betraying only a hint of uncertainly. "We just need to get it out. Just…wait here," she ordered as she ran out of the room.

Denzel was shaky on his feet and almost paralyzed with worry. "Cloud…I'm so sorry. I don't know what…I didn't mean to…"

Cloud shook his head and pulled Denzel closer by his wrist. "Not your fault," he said hoarsely. The effort of speaking so forcefully must have irritated his throat, because he began coughing again.

Denzel shifted uneasily on his feet, wishing he could do something to help. The acrid odor of smoke filled his nostrils and his eyes widened. "Cloud? Is that smell coming from you?"

Eyes watering as he got the coughing fit under control, Cloud nodded. Seeing the terrified look on the boy's face, he waved dismissively as if to say "It's fine," although he didn't dare to try to speak again.

Tifa rushed back into the room with some thick, horrid looking concoction in a glass. Cloud reached his hand out to take it, but she pulled the glass back. "You…probably want to be close to a bathroom." She smiled apologetically at the look on his face. "Sorry. It won't be pleasant, but hopefully you can vomit it back up. I don't know how else to get it out."

Looking resigned, Cloud nodded. He accepted a hand from Tifa to get to his feet and then the two of them left the training room. Feeling frustrated and helpless, Denzel picked up the swords and brought them to the back room. It wasn't much, but at least this was _something_ he could do. He grabbed the cloths and cleaning solutions and scrubbed and polished the first sword until it shone. When he was satisfied that he couldn't make it any better, he put it gently into its place on the wall and picked up the second sword. He gave this one the same treatment, moving up to the hilt only when he could see his reflection in the blade. He used a leather treatment to restore the grip and cleaned out the materia slots. Finally, he replaced the sword carefully back on the wall.

He didn't feel any better. No amount of polishing could ease the weight in the pit of his stomach. In his mind, all he could see was the materia slot that had held the fire materia. All he could think of was the chip in that slot – the chip that he had put there.

* * *

Denzel desperately wanted to take refuge in his room, but it was too close to the bathroom from which the horrible retching sounds issued. He put on his headphones and tried to block out the guilt-inducing noises, but he could hear them over every lull and ebb in the music. Finally he tore off the headphones and threw them angrily at the headboard. He would probably regret that later, but at the moment he was overwhelmed with too many other emotions to make room for that one.

He went downstairs and into the bar area, hoping to restore some karma – or at least feel better about himself – by doing homework when he wasn't yet being forced. He sat down at their regular table and spread out his books and papers. He opened "The History and People of Gaia" and tried to read the assigned chapter, but the words blurred in front of his eyes. He kept seeing that look on Cloud's face, and hearing his hoarse reassurance: _Not your fault._

He sat there for a long time, trying to refocus his eyes and his mind, reading the same sentence over and over without comprehending. Wasn't this what he'd been practicing with Tifa? He had to clear his turbulent mind if he wanted to use materia. As soon as the words crossed his mind, the thought of materia alone made him feel sick to his stomach again. He slammed the book shut and dropped his head onto his arms.

He wasn't even aware of her presence until Marlene plopped down in the chair next to him.

"What's wrong with Cloud?" she worried aloud. "He never gets sick! It sounds like he's been throwing up for _hours_ in there."

Denzel was annoyed by her presence as much as her observations. He didn't even lift his head from the table. "Tifa gave him something to make him sick."

Marlene made a face at him. Lately, Denzel had gotten into the habit of peppering every response with sarcasm and then laughing at her for thinking he was serious. It was a mean streak he seemed to have developed since the school year started, since he'd been hanging out with those twins, Jesse and Jason. "Whatever you say," she muttered with a sigh. She pulled out her math book and paper and got to work, answering equations in her perfect writing.

* * *

They ate without Cloud that evening. He was still holed up in the upstairs bathroom. Denzel stabbed at his meatloaf moodily while Tifa came up with evasive answers to all of Marlene's questions.

"I didn't even know he could get sick," she said with wide eyes.

It was true. When the three of them had been dragging themselves around the house, moaning about a summer flu, Cloud had tried to keep all of them comfortable and fed. While they struggled with colds all winter long, Cloud never had so much as a sniffle, but he kept enough tissue around the house for an army. In fact, she couldn't remember a single time he'd shown any sign of illness, except for the Geostigma.

With that thought, she shot to her feet, upsetting her glass of milk. She ignored the white liquid racing to the edge of the table. "Tifa! Do you think he has some kind of disease, like when he got Geostigma?"

Tifa didn't even seem to notice the spilled milk. Denzel righted the glass, but most of it had already spilled and was dribbling in loud splats on the floor. He shot an annoyed look at Marlene as Tifa rushed to reassure her.

"No, no, of course not, Sweetie! He's just…it was something he ate earlier today. He'll be fine once he gets it out of his system."

Denzel didn't want to be any part of the conversation, afraid they would read the guilt on his face, so he kept his eyes downcast and tried to clean up the soggy mess with napkins. Neither of the girls even noticed, and no one said a word when he brought his still-full plate into the kitchen.

Later that evening, Denzel was stretched out on his bed, sketching, when the bathroom door finally opened. His pencil stilled as he listened to Cloud's footsteps padding down the hall. He waited until he heard Tifa's door close before daring a peek out of his room. Seeing that the coast was clear, he tiptoed to their bedroom door and held his breath.

"…no, but don't worry. I feel ok now. Maybe nothing will happen." Cloud's voice sounded rough, but Denzel felt himself relax incrementally at the lack of concern in his tone.

The bed springs creaked and linen rustled as one or both of them got comfortable in bed. "I called around a little bit to see if anyone had seen anything like this before –"

"Tifa, you shouldn't have done that. I don't want anyone –"

"Well I thought someone might be able to help! I don't know what else to do."

There was silence for a moment before Cloud prodded her further. "So? Did anyone know what would happen?"

Tifa sounded defeated. "No. Even Doc Marten said he'd never heard of it happening to anyone in all his years."

"Hmm. You know what? I'm not that worried. It can't be any worse than all the poisons my body has been subjected to. Maybe it can handle it."

There was a long pause, and the sound of shifting linen and kissing. Tifa's voice changed. "Your body _is_ capable of some pretty amazing things." Cloud's laugh was low and rumbling.

Denzel felt a pinch on his arm and slapped instinctively at the bug, squashing it against his skin. He winced at the noise. The sound was soft, but still…

"Go to bed, Denz." Cloud's voice floated through the wooden door.

Denzel let out his breath in a huff. "I was just getting some water," he grumbled. To make it believable, he headed down to the kitchen and filled a small cup with water from the tap. He took a sip and then dumped the rest. He left the glass in the sink and made his way softly back up the stairs to listen at the door, but all was quiet in Tifa's room. He hadn't really expected anything. In fact, it was a miracle that he had managed to overhear anything in the first place without Cloud knowing he was there.

He returned to his room and shut the door softly behind him. As he got into bed, his eyes fell on the still-open sketchbook. He had drawn a burly-looking man with ruddy skin and a neglected beard. The man had a scowl on his face and his crossed arms rested on top of his protruding belly. The look in his eyes gave Denzel the chills. He closed the book and tucked it inside a nightstand drawer. He had no idea who the man was, but he supposed he'd find out eventually. He always did.

* * *

Denzel didn't sleep well that night. He woke up in the morning with a vague feeling of apprehension and memories of swirling colors, but couldn't piece together any of his dreams. He rolled out of bed and slogged down the stairs. Tifa greeted him cheerfully as he sat down at the table for breakfast, but the shadows under her eyes told him that she'd slept as poorly as he had.

Cloud came down the stairs as Denzel helped himself to eggs and toast. Denzel studied him discreetly as he dished up his plate. Cloud looked the same as he always did. His blond spikes stuck up in the air and his blue eyes glowed in the early morning sunshine of the kitchen. He snatched a piece of bacon from Tifa's plate as he walked by and she slapped playfully at his hand.

All four members of their unorthodox little family were at the table, acting like nothing had happened. Marlene was the only one who was truly oblivious to the events of the previous day, and she chattered about her upcoming school field trip and some new girl in her class. Denzel decided to follow the adults' lead and not talk about the incident in front of her.

The rest of the day passed much the same, as did the rest of the week, and Denzel came to realize that they weren't just trying to hide it from Marlene – no one was talking about it _at all_. He had tried to bring it up once when he was alone with Tifa, but she just brushed him off, assuring him that Cloud was too tough to be really hurt by something so small. The longer everyone acted like nothing was wrong, the more Denzel started to believe maybe there really _wasn't_ anything wrong. Maybe it would turn out to be harmless in his stomach, or maybe – Denzel's butt burned in sympathy at the thought – it just came out the other end. In any case, he couldn't see any ill effects from it. Cloud looked the same as always, so maybe the boy was making too big of a deal out of it.

If he hadn't wanted to believe it so badly, perhaps he would have thought it strange that Cloud ended up canceling so many of their training sessions in the following weeks. He would have had more than a passing curiosity about the times he'd found Cloud in that room alone, or the increasing smell of burnt food permeating the air.

As it was, life just went back to normal at Seventh Heaven. Denzel did homework and chores; he ate and slept and trained. Although his sword training sessions were fewer, he spent more time with Tifa working on his materia. Marlene and Cloud seemed to be spending more time together than usual, but he supposed it was only natural since he was hogging Tifa so often for his materia lessons.

A month later, the four sat together at the breakfast table as usual, enjoying the relaxed and playful atmosphere before they would have to get ready for their various responsibilities. Marlene was animatedly telling a story while the others ate and listened politely.

As Denzel took a bite of his toast, Cloud shot to his feet, muscles tensed. Tifa paused with the fork halfway to her mouth. "What's wrong?"

Cloud stared in the direction of the bar. "Stay here," he barked, taking off at a run through the kitchen door. They heard the front door slam behind him.

The remaining three looked at each other, at a loss. Finally, Denzel spoke. "Tifa, shouldn't we—"

"Shh!" She shushed him with a wave of her hand. "Listen."

Denzel strained his ears, but it wasn't necessary for long. A horrifying melee of sounds was getting louder by the second. There were roars of beasts in several different pitches, the sound of wood splintering and steel bending, and the unmistakable whoosh of a sword whipping through air, terminated abruptly with each swing as it met its target.

Adrenaline pumping through him, Denzel charged through the door. "No, wait!" Tifa called, but he was already gone, too driven to reach Cloud to heed her warning. He burst through the front door into the blinding morning sunshine, squinting as he spotted the horde of assorted monsters at the end of the block.

At some point on his flight out the door, Cloud had retrieved First Tsurugi, and was dual wielding two of the pieces as he battled against the dozens of beasts. Denzel steeled himself. This was his chance. This was what he'd been training for!

He ran to help his hero, realizing only as he broke into the fray that he hadn't grabbed a weapon. Fear quickly overrode his earlier bravado. A cripshay eyed him hungrily and he began to back away slowly, hoping that he wouldn't startle the monster into attacking. It didn't work. The cripshay skittered toward him. Before Denzel could retreat more than a few steps, it had pinned him to the ground on his back. He pushed up against its stomach with all his strength, keeping its clashing teeth at bay, but his arms were starting to tire and the teeth moved closer. He closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, earning himself a few extra inches of space. A whiff of air cooled his face, and the cripshay was suddenly dead weight against his arms. He opened his eyes and shoved it off. The hollow blade of the fusion sword protruded from the middle of the beast's head.

Denzel looked over to where Cloud was smoothly fighting off more monsters than he could count, almost a block away. He had flung the hollow blade as a projectile to impale the cripshay. Without taking his eyes off the myriad of beasts, he shouted, "Denzel, get inside!"

Denzel growled and got to his feet, grasping the hilt of the hollow blade and pulling it free from the cripshay's head with a wet squelch. He was not a child anymore. He didn't need to be protected like one. "No," he said quietly, knowing Cloud could hear him.

He raised the sword and positioned his feet in the stance that was now automatic. He swung with all his might at a chuse tank that had been racing by. He felt a rush of elation as the sword sliced through the green neck and decapitated the beast.

The teen gripped the sword harder as he continued swinging at the charging swarm. The hot blood from assorted species was running down the blade and making the hilt slippery. _Now there's something you don't encounter in practice._ He was starting to understand why Cloud always wore gloves when he fought.

Denzel was desperately wishing he had some materia, but of course Cloud hadn't had time to equip anything in his sword, or even put on any armor. Denzel's arms were starting to get tired with the non-stop onslaught, but he felt more alive than he ever had before. _This is why he does it,_ he thought. _This is why Cloud keeps going out and killing monsters in the surrounding forests and the edges of town. Even though the people in town don't know, even though no one ever thanks him for protecting them, he does it for this rush. I get it now. Someday, that will be me._

He pulled the sword free from the midsection of the vice in which he'd buried it, every sense heightened with the thrill of battle. He could hear the overwhelming roar of the mob lowering in volume as more and more were defeated. He could smell the mingled odors of the beasts and the coppery tang of blood in the air. He could keep track of the dozens of monsters in his field of vision, could move with precision as his blade sliced through one beast after the next. And he felt, with terrifying clarity, the slippery hilt of the hollow blade slide from his grasp as a whole eater swatted it away.

Panicked, he spun around to retrieve his weapon, remembering what he had been told in training only as he felt the point of the whole eater's teeth stabbing into him, from his neck to the base of his spine: _Don't turn your back on your opponent._

" _Tifa_!" With an urgency that Denzel rarely heard in his voice, Cloud screamed her name.

"Got it!" Tifa's voice was right behind Denzel. As soon as he crashed to the ground, he braced himself for another attack, but the animal was several steps away and its attention was not on him. He realized the monster had released him when Tifa's powerful fist had smashed into its jaw. A spinning kick sent it flying over the head of several other monsters, still alive but away from them for the moment. "Denzel! Are you ok?"

Tifa couldn't stop to look at him. With a flurry of fists and feet, she beat back the monsters trying to converge on the boy bleeding on the ground. Denzel tried to push himself up with his arms, crying out as the pain from his wounds seared through his body. It started to fade almost immediately though, replaced by a cool tingling sensation over each of the punctures. Within seconds, the pain was gone.

Marlene's voice, sounding younger and more desperate than he remembered, called out to him. "Denzel! Get up!" She was standing far away from the main action, breathing hard, even while concentrating on another spell. Denzel felt a wash of affection for her as he recognized the shimmering of the shell and protect spells encircling his body.

He snatched up the sword and jumped back into the fight next to Tifa, chopping off a tentacle reaching for her. They worked together as Denzel regained his previous momentum, the two of them slicing and striking through the mob. They were gradually moving in the opposite direction of Cloud, making the distance ever greater between them, but it didn't seem to matter. They were holding their own.

The blood froze in Denzel's veins as Marlene's shriek vibrated through him. Without thinking, he turned to run toward her, realizing his mistake almost immediately as he was struck down from behind. _Ugh! I did it again!_ His head slammed into the ground, pain blurring his vision as he struggled to lift his head to see her. He _had_ to make sure Marlene was ok! He had thought of the girl as his sister for years, and even though she sometimes annoyed him, the thought of losing her was unbearable. He pushed himself to his knees and spotted her scrabbling backwards, trying to dodge the lunges of a giant bird that he didn't recognize.

Something pounced on his back, driving him back to the ground. The air was pushed out of his lungs with a whoosh. The sounds of the battlefield mingled into a single, ringing tone as his vision darkened. The last thing he felt as he slipped into unconsciousness was a wave of heat.

Denzel opened his eyes to the tingling that he now recognized as a cure fading from his body. He struggled to orient himself in his surroundings. His legs dangled and his head was tipped back. With an effort, he lifted his head to see glowing blue eyes that seemed to shine with an unfamiliar tint of red. The red faded as his head cleared, and he realized Cloud was holding him bridal style. Cloud's face showed as little emotion as usual, but the clench of muscles in his jaw betrayed his anxiety.

"Cloud?" Denzel said hoarsely. "Put me down." He was too shell-shocked to be embarrassed by the way he was being held like a baby, but Cloud was holding him slightly tighter than was comfortable.

Cloud set him carefully on his feet, keeping his hands on his arms long enough to make sure he was steady. For the first time, Denzel took in his surroundings. Tifa and Marlene huddled around him, the former with concern coloring her expression, the latter with eyes red from crying. Beyond them was a charred mass of bodies that he could barely recognize as the hoard of beasts they had been fighting.

"What…" Denzel trailed off as he took in the devastation. In addition to the monsters they had been fighting, some buildings looked singed, and others were still burning with small fires as the townspeople doused them with buckets of water.

Tifa rubbed his back soothingly. "Let's go home. We can talk there."

They had moved about two blocks from the bar as they fought, and nobody spoke as the quartet made their way home. The destruction lessened as they got farther from ground zero, and Seventh Heaven was completely untouched. Tifa held the door open as they all shuffled inside.

They took their places at the bar table that served as their dinner, homework, and family discussion table during the bar's off hours. The kids looked expectantly at the adults. The adults looked at each other, communicating silently with their eyes.

Exasperated with the exclusive conversation, Denzel broke the silence. "So? What happened?"

Still, neither of the adults spoke. Hoping to nudge them into speaking, Marlene slowly started with what she knew. "All three of you were busy fighting. I was trying to cast protective spells for you all, and it was hard to concentrate because I was so scared, but I think they worked…" She trailed off and Denzel reached over to squeeze her hand reassuringly.

"They worked, Mar. Then what happened?"

Marlene closed her eyes as she recalled the next few minutes. "This huge bird came out of nowhere. I've never seen anything like it! It kept swiping and trying to peck me. I was backed up to a wall and I thought I was done for, but then Tifa came and slammed it into the ground." She swallowed, opening her eyes to look at her brother and gripping his hand tighter. "When I got up I saw Denzel was bleeding and…and then there was this fire everywhere and...what _happened_?"

Tifa took a breath and decided to address the simplest of her questions first. "The giant bird – it was a zuu. It's…not native to this area."

Marlene's brow furrowed. "Then what was it doing here?"

Tifa shook her head and Cloud spoke up. "We're not sure. I've never seen them outside of Mt. Nibel."

"Oh…kay…" Marlene trailed, anxious to get to the more pressing question. "What about the fire? Where did the fire come from?"

Cloud and Tifa exchanged looks again, but before they could speak, there was a pounding at the front door. As a public door to the bar, it was unusual for anyone to knock, but Tifa rose to pull it open. A burly man, looking slightly singed but otherwise unharmed, barked out his message. "Come down to city hall. Town meeting."

Without waiting for any kind of response, he jogged to next house over and banged on the door. Tifa let the heavy door swing shut. "I guess we'll have to talk about this later." She looked at the kids at the table. "You two stay here."

Both kids protested immediately.

"We were involved! We should be allowed to come too!" Marlene pleaded.

"I want to be there," Denzel said stubbornly. "If I'm old enough to fight, I'm old enough to talk about it."

Cloud looked perturbed. "You shouldn't have been fighting either, Denz."

Denzel jumped to his feet, ignoring the protest from his unsteady legs. "I'm almost as old as you were when—"

"Enough!" Tifa cut him off. "It's not up to us. Only 18 and older are allowed to attend town meetings. So we're going and you two are staying here and that's final."

Both kids closed their mouths. Tifa had invoked the angry tone that they all knew meant that it would be foolish to argue with her. There was also a 50/50 chance that she would launch into a tirade that would make their ears bleed.

Cloud grasped her hand and she calmed visibly, tipping the scales away from Ranting Tifa mode. "Let's get going, Teef," he murmured.

She nodded and let out a calming breath, but the worried lines around her mouth didn't relax. Cloud pulled her out the door and Denzel collapsed onto the couch, feeling the fatigue catching up with him. He had been through some exhausting training sessions and built up his stamina considerably, but he was woefully unprepared for the intensity of that battle.

He let his eyes close as he replayed it in his mind. It had been a long time since he'd seen Cloud in a real fight, beyond a handful of monsters easily dispatched in a few swings. But watching him this morning, he realized that the strength and speed he'd used when training Denzel was just a fraction of his capabilities. It was a depressing thought. It wasn't _normal_. How was it possible? If Cloud was never in SOLDIER, if he was never part of those mako infusions, how was it possible that he could be so strong and fast?

His brain was as exhausted as his body; there was no way he would be able to figure out the puzzle of Cloud Strife in his current state. Ignoring Marlene's questioning voice, he dragged himself up the stairs and collapsed into his bed. He was asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.

Tifa came up to wake him for dinner. He sat up groggily, feeling disoriented by the time on his clock and the late afternoon sunshine. Apparently he'd slept right through lunch, which they usually had at about the same time as the town meeting that day. The events of the morning came rushing back to him and he threw back his covers. This was his chance to hear about the town meeting and finally figure out what the heck was going on.

By the time he had washed his hands and made it down to the table, the other three were already there. Marlene was almost bouncing in her seat. "He's awake and he's here! _Now_ will you explain what's going on?"

Tifa was trying to keep up a civilized semblance of a meal, but it seemed that no one else was interested in the food. Finally, she sighed and gave up. "Alright, fine. But really, there were more questions than answers at the meeting. People want to know where all the monsters came from, especially since some of them aren't native to this area, and no one really knows what they're doing near Midgar or how to even fight them."

Denzel snorted quietly. No one else in town really bothered to fight any of the beasts in the area. They just learned how to avoid them and used Cloud's delivery service whenever they needed to get something through one of the areas inhabited by those monsters. Cloud also kept a perimeter around Edge cleared out, which was large enough to keep them out of the town's rough borders most of the time.

Ignoring the rude noise, Marlene spoke up. "Did they all just show up today? Didn't you see them when you were patrolling, Cloud?"

Tifa looked startled, as if the thought hadn't occurred to her, and she turned to Cloud expectantly.

He shifted in his seat. "Yeah. I did. There were some different species around and more than usual, but I was taking care of it. I didn't see any reason to alarm anyone else."

Marlene eyed him shrewdly. "But you were sick all day yesterday, so you didn't do the patrol. That's why they got into town today. Does that mean…do you fight that many _every day_?"

Cloud crossed his arms and frowned. "Nowhere near. I don't know where they all came from."

More questions than answers, just like Tifa had said. But something was still bugging Denzel. He knew neither Cloud nor Tifa had taken the time to return to the house to get materia. "So who cast the fire? Was it you, Marlene?"

Marlene looked startled. "No! I went back and got the curing and support materia, but I didn't get anything to attack." She fiddled with a strand of hair, the way she always did when she was working through something in her mind. She looked up with wide eyes. "Does that mean someone else in Edge knows how to use materia now?"

Tifa hesitated. "I don't think so. No one admitted to it at the meeting."

Denzel looked at Marlene. She was still twirling the piece of hair, but she said nothing. His gaze moved to Cloud. His face was impassive as ever, but his eyes were seeing something far away from Seventh Heaven. Denzel had spent years learning to read the blond man's eyes, but all he could tell from them now was that he was deep in thought.

An audible growl from his stomach reminded Denzel that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and he finally started to dish up some food. "So what now? What are we going to do about it?"

Tifa looked down at the behemoth steak she was slowly cutting on her plate as she spoke. "Well…they're talking about building a wall around Edge." She was being evasive for some reason, apparently fascinated with the sight of the meat.

Denzel prodded further. "And? Everyone knows Cloud's the only one that can really fight around here." His eyes lit up. "They should, like, hire him! He could totally get paid for doing what he does already!"

Tifa glanced at Cloud, but he was still off in his own world, so she answered again. The steak was now being cut into pieces small enough to feed a baby chocobo. "Um, no, that didn't come up. Some of the people volunteered to do patrol around the town…"

Cloud's eyes suddenly snapped back into focus. "I need to go see if there's more to be cleared out. I'll be back in a few hours."

The other three watched in startled silence as he grabbed his sword and his keys and walked out the door. It was hours before the time he usually did his run, and he hadn't even touched the food. For a man who needed to eat as much as Cloud did, it was an ominous sign.

Later that evening Denzel was sitting on his bed, sketching, when he heard a soft knock on the door. "Come in," he said without looking up. The door creaked open and the bed shifted only slightly under the weight of the smaller girl. "What is it, Marlene?"

Marlene leaned forward as she studied the sketchpad upside-down. "Denzel, how do you know those girls?"

His pencil stopped moving, but he didn't look up. "Uh, I don't. I mean, I've just seen them around town. Why, do you know them?"

"Yeah…" Marlene said softly. "They're in my class. Why are you drawing them?"

Denzel snapped the book closed, irritated. "Is there some reason you need to be in my room, or did you just come to badger me about my hobbies?"

He regretted his harsh tone when he looked up and saw the quivering of her lip, her eyes red from crying again. He ran a hand over his face wearily. "Aww jeez, Mar, I'm sorry. It's not a big deal. It's just a stupid drawing of some stupid girls I don't even know, ok?"

Marlene nodded, but her lip continued to quiver and tears slipped down her face. "It's ok," she said, her voice wobbly. "It's just…" She burst into full-fledged crying now, and Denzel sighed and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her head as her body shook. He was remembering the many times he'd done this when they were younger, when she was a little girl who needed constant reassurance that Barret still loved her, that she wasn't just a burden to Cloud and Tifa, that she was wanted. Denzel wasn't even sure that _he_ was wanted, that _he_ wasn't a burden, but he had murmured the words to her, over and over, until she believed them.

She had grown up to be smart and strong and resourceful and confident, and that uncertain little girl had been gone for so long, so why now? Denzel just held her and waited, knowing she was working up to it. She would get it out when she could.

Finally, sobbing into his shirt, she spit it out. "I couldn't do it, Denz. I tried, I swear, I wanted to, but you weren't moving, and the fire was so… and I thought…" she dissolved into tears again, leaving him to sort through her fragments of speech.

"You tried to…do you mean during the battle today? You healed me and you gave me protect and shell. I felt it and I saw it shimmering. You were amazing, Mar."

She pushed herself back up to a sitting position, removing herself from the protective circle of his arms as she calmed herself enough to be coherent, swiping at her face with her sleeves. "No, Denzel. Later. After Tifa took down that big bird. That…thing was on top of you and you weren't moving, and then there was fire everywhere and everything was burning and _you_ were burning. Cloud ran over and picked you up before the fire even went out, and he yelled for me to heal you, and I tried, but you were so burned and there was this static in my head and I..." she looked up at him with big brown eyes begging for forgiveness. "I couldn't hear them, Denz. I couldn't hear the voices and I couldn't fix you!"

Tears were still streaming down her face freely, but the sobbing had subsided to those hiccupy gasps and at least she was making sense now. Denzel grasped her chin and brought her face up. "Look at me, Mar. I'm fine, ok? Whatever happened, it doesn't matter, because I'm fine now. You were brilliant today! No one else even thought to get that materia, but _you did_. You went back to get it and you cured us and protected us while we were fighting, and it would've been so much worse without you. You have nothing to feel bad about."

Marlene blinked her blurry eyes and pulled her face away from his hand, turning her head to stare at the wall. "You didn't see them," she said softly. "Cloud looked so scared. His eyes looked like they were glowing red, and he was yelling at me to do it, but I couldn't. Tifa finally snatched the materia away from me and cured you herself."

She wrapped her arms around her knees. "I've never seen them like that before, you know? I've seen them in battles, and they stay calm and they work together, even if something bad happens. Cloud never yells, and Tifa never panics, and the only thing I could think of…the only reason they would be acting that way…was that it was too late. For you."

Her eyes were haunted. Denzel wanted to say something else to reassure her, but he couldn't. He was still processing all of this new information. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Look, it's really late and we have school in the morning. Let's just go to bed, ok?"

Marlene dropped her arms and stood up, looking like her usual, collected self, other than her blotchy face and shaky voice. "Yeah. I'm sure you're still tired after that fight. I'll…I'll see you in the morning, ok?"

He gave her a fond smile. "Yeah. G'night, Mar."

* * *

The big battle was the only thing anyone could talk about at school the next day. Theories abounded about where all the beasts and the fire came from, ranging from marginally possible to ridiculously outlandish.

Most of them had seen (or at least heard about) the size and sheer number of monsters. They knew of the destruction they caused to the buildings and the unsuspecting townspeople caught in the onslaught. They knew that their classmate, the unassuming freckled boy who sat in the back of class, had been in the fray.

Denzel was an instant celebrity. His lunch table was crammed with people who wanted to be called his friend. His desk was surrounded by kids peppering him with questions, at least until the teacher ordered them all to sit down and be quiet. Although he didn't get much of a chance to tell his side of the story, the tales grew taller as they spread throughout the school. Even better, the girl he'd had a crush on all year approached him in the hallway on his way to Math class.

"Hey Denzel."

"Alicia. H-hey." Denzel rubbed at the back of his neck, an unconscious habit he had picked up from Cloud. He focused on not tripping over his feet as they walked.

"So umm…I heard about what you did during the monster attack."

Denzel was sure his face was burning up. "Yeah, well, the stories might have been a little exaggerated," he said nervously.

They had reached his classroom and stopped walking. His eyes were drawn to the piece of hair Alicia was twirling around her finger. "Well, it sounds cool. So…see you around?"

"Y-yeah. Sure." Denzel fumbled.

Alicia gave him a quick peck on the cheek, smiled shyly, and then turned and walked away.

Denzel was rooted in place, stunned. He watched her as she joined up with a few friends who had obviously been waiting for her, giggling, and they walked on together.

Jason bumped him with his shoulder, startling him from his daze. "Hey, man. You going into class or what?"

"Oh! Yeah." Denzel went and took his seat, fairly certain that the foolish smile stayed on his face throughout the entire afternoon. Overall, it was a fantastic day for him. He practically floated home after school.

If he hadn't been so distracted, maybe he would have noticed that everyone else was unusually quiet at dinner. Maybe he would have wondered why Marlene was wearing long sleeves and pants, even though it was sweltering hot. Maybe he would have asked about the unusually strong smell of smoke. Maybe he would have noticed the distant look in Cloud's eyes, and the nervous glances from Tifa. But he didn't.

* * *

As the little family gathered around him at one of the small round tables in the bar, Denzel rolled his eyes at their rendition of "Happy Birthday", but secretly he was pleased. They were goofy and loving and he felt as accepted in this family as he ever had with his parents.

Marlene was the first to give him a gift. She placed a medium-sized box in front of him on the table, saying "It's from Daddy and me."

Denzel was touched. Barret was friendly enough to him, but he wasn't the type to be remembering the boy's birthday. Marlene must have asked him to help pay for it since she didn't really have much money of her own. He peeled off the paper to reveal a polished wooden box with his name carved on the top. He looked over his shoulder at Marlene, but she smiled mysteriously and didn't answer.

Finding a latch on the front, he unhooked it and lifted a hinged cover. It was similar to a jewelry box, but instead of holding jewelry, it held dozens of compartments in three different sizes, with the smallest about the size of a marble, the largest the size of a golf ball. The compartments were grouped into different colored velvet layers. Marlene leaned over his shoulder, showing him how the upper layers could slide to the side to reveal the lower layers. "See, the yellow layer is for your command materia, the green for your magic materia, blue for support, purple for independent, and red for summon."

She stood back and waited for his reaction, but Denzel wasn't saying anything. Marlene was starting to get fidgety. Maybe he didn't like it. Maybe he thought it looked too girly. From her vantage point behind him, she couldn't see his face and she was starting to feel stupid.

But across the table from them, Tifa could see that Denzel was blinking rapidly. Finally he spoke, his voice wobbly and affectionate. "This is cool, Mar. Really cool. You're alright for a bratty little sister."

Relief washed over her face and she looked pleased as Denzel gave her a tight hug. She had spent over a month out in the garage with Cloud, working on her project as he worked on his. It really had turned out beautiful and Cloud was proud of the way she'd stuck to it. He was a little disappointed when she finished it, but only because he'd been enjoying the time he had spent with her in that stuffy garage. She had gotten closer to Tifa over these last few years and Cloud had missed the spirited little girl, but she was 12 now and turning into a hard-working, responsible young woman.

Tifa was next. She handed him a small box wrapped in shiny red paper. He ripped off the paper and removed the top of the box to reveal 5 marble-sized stones. There were 3 green, 1 blue, and 1 yellow.

"My own materia?" Denzel asked excitedly. "Wow, thanks Tifa! But um…why are they so small?" He had been practicing with Cloud's and Tifa's materia, which was much bigger.

"Because they're new," Tifa explained. "You'll have to level them up and they'll grow as they get stronger, but you'll be able to cast them much more effectively if you level them up yourself."

Denzel reverently placed the stones in the proper spots in the materia box. "These are amazing! Thanks, everyone. Cloud, can we go practice with these now?"

"Um, not quite yet." Looking shy and slightly embarrassed, Cloud slid a long, surprisingly light package across the table to Denzel. The teen gave him a questioning look, which was answered with a small smile. He had always received gifts from "Cloud & Tifa", always written in Tifa's curly script and perfectly wrapped paper. This one was clearly just from Cloud. It was loosely wrapped with the brown packaging paper he used for his delivery service and then covered with an excessive amount of tape.

Denzel tore into the gift with difficulty – did he seriously need to use packaging tape? – and after several minutes, he unwrapped enough to see the shiny metallic reflection. Getting excited, he ripped open the rest of the package haphazardly and dropped the paper shreds on the floor around him. He held up a longsword, beautifully made, perfectly balanced. The hilt was wrapped in strips of red leather, and 4 adjustable materia slots were set into the base of the blade. He admired it with awe. "Cloud, this is so perfect!"

Cloud made his way around the table and stood behind Denzel. "Look." He pointed out two small buttons on the guard, easy enough to reach with his thumbs, but out of the way where they wouldn't be accidentally bumped.

Curious, Denzel pushed the first button. A smaller sword separated from the main blade. It was spring-loaded and easy to release. He let out a whoop of joy and pressed the other button, popping off a medium sized blade. "My own fusion sword? Did you make this?"

Cloud gave a small nod. "Do you like it?"

Denzel set the swords on the table and jumped up, startling Cloud with a big hug. "Are you kidding? I love it! I couldn't have asked for anything better!" He released the blond man and bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, reminding Cloud strongly of Zack. He had always had too much energy to burn.

Cloud couldn't help but smile, noticing absently that the boy was already almost as tall as him, and only 14. "Want to go try it out?"

"Hey!" Tifa interrupted. "Settle down, boys."

Their eyes were drawn to her with twin looks of dismay, as if she had dared to interrupt their playtime.

Tifa put her hands sternly on her hips. "What about the cake?"

Denzel's sudden popularity after the monster attack didn't immediately fade, but the interest in him dwindled as time passed. It was almost a relief. He was getting sick of being the center of attention everywhere he went and had started trying to lose his entourage at every opportunity. Even better, he'd finally found the courage to ask out Alicia, and she had agreed to meet up with him the following week, during their school break.

The week seemed to take forever as he fantasized about their date. On the last day of school before the break, he shoved his books into his backpack and headed out the side door of the school. He was surprised to see Jesse and Jason waiting for him on the other side of the door. They sometimes walked together if they happened to be leaving at the same time, but they had never actually waited for him before.

"Hey guys," Denzel greeted them. "On the way home?"

"Yeah. Wanna walk with us?" Jason asked.

"Sure," Denzel shrugged.

They started in the general direction of their homes and Jason nudged Denzel with his elbow. "Heard you got a hot date next week."

Denzel couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. "Yeah. With Alicia."

Jason whistled. "Nice! And what exactly are you planning?"

"Oh, just out for ice cream. And other stuff." Denzel grinned. "Cloud said he'd give me some tips."

Jesse laughed out loud. "Why would you take advice from _him_? I bet he's never even been with a chick."

Denzel blinked at him, perturbed. "What are you talking about? He's with Tifa.".

Jesse gave him a pitying look. "Dude, living in the same place and working together is not the same thing as actually _being_ together." Jesse shrugged and looked back at the path. "Dad says he only stays there 'cause Tifa has a soft spot for poor, pathetic strays. Same reason she lets you and that mousy little girl hang around."

A flare of anger lit inside of Denzel, but he held it back. He shouldn't let it get to him. He knew that Cloud and Tifa were a couple. He knew that they loved him and Marlene as if they were their own. Why should he care what a couple random kids from school think? He tried his best to keep the bite out of his voice. "Maybe your dad thinks he knows Tifa 'cause he hangs around the bar or something, but he doesn't know anything about us."

The twins exchanged a look that he couldn't interpret.

"What?" Denzel asked uneasily.

"Well…you know they all grew up together, right?" Jason asked. He was a bit more mellow than his brother and usually wasn't deliberately mean. "They're all from Nibelheim."

This sparked Denzel's interest. He still couldn't imagine Cloud as a kid. "Really? Were they friends? What was he like?"

Jesse laughed derisively. "A loser," he sneered, pulling Denzel's eyes back to him. "Dad says he was just a weirdo, and taking that mako stuff just made him weirder."

The recently smothered flame of anger surged. "He is not!" he defended. "Besides, he didn't even get mako shots. He said he wasn't even in SOLDIER."

Jesse snorted. "Yeah, ok. His eyes just started glowing for no reason. They didn't look like that when he was a kid, you know."

For a moment, Denzel didn't have an answer. He didn't know why his eyes looked the way they did, but he didn't believe Cloud would lie to him.

"Anyway," Jesse continued, "everyone knows mako attracts monsters, and it's his fault they attacked Edge. That's what everyone said at the town meeting." He shrugged with an air of nonchalance. "I'm sure he'll be banished from town soon."

Jesse didn't see it coming. He only felt the explosion of pain radiating from the center of his face as Denzel's fist smashed into his nose. Jesse stumbled backwards and landed on his butt in the dust, screaming as he held both hands over his nose. Jason tried to stick up for his brother, aiming a punch at his friend that was easily deflected, and then his feet flew out from under him. His back hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from his chest. He struggled to breathe as his brother screamed, and Denzel turned away from them. He had lost his temper and regretted it already.

Letting out his breath slowly, Denzel turned around and held a hand out to Jesse. "I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't have reacted like that. We're friends."

Jesse's eyes were watering and he still held his hands protectively over his nose. "Get away from me, you freak! We are _not_ friends!"

Denzel's hand dropped and he sighed. "Ok then." He turned and walked away, ignoring the stream of curses from behind him.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at nothing but the ground in front of him as he continued toward home. What a horrible way to end a great week. The twins hadn't been the greatest friends, but they were edgy and adventurous and they always had something new to show Denzel – usually the type of things Cloud and Tifa would not approve of. And he certainly hadn't wanted to make enemies of them.

He was deep in his brooding when a familiar sniffle reached his ears. He looked up, trying to find the source of the sound. He was passing what the kids called "The Wasteland", essentially a fenced-off dumping ground for trash. It was rumored that shady things happened there at night, but it was safe enough during the day.

Denzel froze and held his breath, listening intently. There it was again! A soft sniffle that was definitely coming from behind the fence. He climbed up to where the gap widened between the fence and the rocky wall that abutted the Wasteland, and pulled himself through. He navigated between the piles of garbage and stepped over some unidentified gooey substance on the ground. As he came around an especially tall heap of trash, he spotted the small figure huddled on the ground.

"Marlene!" He hurried to her side and squatted next to her on the ground. "Are you ok? What are you doing here?"

Marlene slowly raised her head from her arms. Her tear-stained face and wide eyes broke his heart, but his emotions swiftly turned to anger when he saw the bruise forming on her cheekbone. "Who did this to you?" he demanded.

She shook her head slowly and sniffled. "Just some girls. It doesn't matter." The unidentified goo was streaked down one side of her hair, and random pieces of garbage stuck to it. There were coffee grounds in her hair and trailing down to her shirt, which was also covered with assorted trash.

Denzel picked a piece of bread from the side of her head and tried to brush off the coffee grounds, but they were wet and some had sunk into her hair. He continued cleaning off the garbage as he said softly. "Tell me what happened."

Marlene looked distant. "They pretended they were my friends," she said hesitantly. "They said they wanted to show me something in the Wasteland, and then when we got in here they pushed me down and dumped a bucket of garbage on my head and then threw stuff at me." Her lip quivered. "I'm so dumb! I knew they weren't my friends, but I just wanted them to be…"

Denzel stood and helped her to her feet. "Let's go home, Mar. We need to tell Cloud and Tifa."

She froze. "No, we can't tell them! It'll just make it worse if they get involved."

He crossed his arms. "We can't just let them get away with it!"

"Yes, we can. It will be fine after the break, Denzel. They'll have forgotten all about me."

Denzel scowled. "Just tell me who did it, Mar."

"No. You'll try to fix it and I don't need your help. I'll deal with this myself."

He knew it was pointless to argue with her when she had that stubborn look in her eye. He sighed and let his arms drop to his sides. He led her through the piles of garbage and helped her through the gap in the fence. She was limping, and he stopped to examine her leg once they were outside the fence. Her knee was starting to swell.

Then he heard the last voice in the world he wanted to hear in that moment. Jesse.

"See, I told you. Makoid rage. Wait until we tell Dad."

Marlene burst into tears, humiliated. Anger pulsed through Denzel's head and he squeezed the materia in his pocket. "Leave. Us. Alone!"

A ring of fire sprang up around the twins. Jesse yelped and tried to take a step backwards before realizing they were completely surrounded.

Denzel looped Marlene's arm over his shoulder and started helping her walk forward.

"Denzel!" she hissed. "You can't just leave them like that!"

Fire _was_ a little hard to control once it was out of your hands, and he really didn't want to hurt them. He turned around and sent a few blasts of ice to smother the fires, shooting the boys one last warning look. Then he helped his sister home.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Reckoning

**Chapter 3 - The Reckoning**

It was easy for adults to dish out advice about dealing with bullies – tell a teacher, tell a parent, tell someone you trust. Well, Marlene had tried that, once. She would never make that mistake again.

She had tried to tell her teacher, and the teacher had kept the four of them in for recess to "talk it out." Heather had just batted her lashes and said innocently, "Gosh, Marlene, we didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I tease my friends like that all the time—" Juliette and Annile had nodded in agreement "—and it's all in fun." The teacher had said that maybe they should keep their teasing a little milder if their friends were sensitive about it. The three girls nodded and agreed. The teacher had looked satisfied and then shooed them outside for the remainder of recess.

The trio had utterly ignored her for weeks after that, and then the three of them had some kind of falling-out. The week before break had started, Juliette had approached her. She said that she had gotten sick of Heather and Annile, that they were just too mean, and that she was sorry for her part in picking on Marlene in the past. She said she wanted to be friends, and for the entire week before break, she had waited for Marlene after class and saved her a spot at lunch. Heather and Annile had sat at a different table and glared at them. Marlene had always claimed that she didn't care about popularity, but when it came down to it, it really felt good to be hanging out with one of the popular girls. Everyone said hi to Juliette – she was undeniably pretty, and it was well known that her family was the wealthiest in town. Of course, no one was really _rich_ in Edge – they were living on the edge of the Midgar ruins, after all – but rich and poor are always relative.

Now, it was finally the last day of school before the break, and Juliette caught her arm in the friendly way she had been over the last week.

"Hey!" Juliette chirped. "Do you think you could help me feed these wild baby chocobos over break? I've been feeding them every day on the way to and from school , but I'm not sure if I'll be able to get there during the break."

Marlene was a tender-hearted girl, but she knew better than to interfere with nature if it wasn't necessary. "What about their mother?"

Juliette shrugged. "I think she's dead. She's never been around any of the times I've come around to feed them, and they always gobble up everything I bring them." She looked at Marlene, wide-eyed. "They'll starve if you don't help me, Marlene."

"Oh," Marlene breathed. "Well, maybe I can help. Where are they?"

"They're in the Wasteland. Walk with me. I'll show you on the way home."

The two girls walked along, chatting companionably, until they reached the Wasteland. "Give me a boost," Juliette said.

Marlene linked her fingers together for Juliette to step in, and then hoisted her up over the fence. Juliette dropped down on the other side and looked back expectantly. Marlene found hand and footholds in the chain-link fence and slowly, clumsily worked her way up over the top. By the time she made it to the other side, Juliette looked impatient.

"Hurry up, I have to get home soon," Juliette said before heading into the depths of the Wasteland.

Marlene hurried along behind her, trying to follow the other girl's weaving path through the trash piles. Finally, when the road was completely out of sight, Juliette stopped in a little clearing. They were in the section designated for compost, and it struck Marlene that even baby chocobos should be able to find plenty of food here.

"Where are they?" Marlene asked, looking around curiously.

"Marlene," Juliette said coyly. "Have you ever heard the phrase 'Revenge is a dish best served cold'?"

Before Marlene could even process that, the light had been blotted out and cold and slimy things were sliding down her hair and face. Then she was moving, stumbling to stay on her feet as she was shoved back and forth. It didn't last long before she slipped on something, twisting her knee and falling down. Trying to ignore the pain in her knee, she reached up to her head. She felt something round and cold – a metal bucket. She grasped it and pulled it off, gasping as the rest of the gunk that had been trapped between the top of her head and the bucket showered down over her shoulders – egg whites, shells, coffee grounds, moldy leftovers, and some other unidentified slimy substance.

Shuddering, she tried to brush it off, but then she was being pelted with more. It was Juliette and Heather and Annile, throwing handfuls of whatever garbage they could reach. They wore work gloves – heaven forbid they dirty their dainty hands – and somewhere in one of their indescriminate throws was something hard and heavy. Marlene felt it strike her cheekbone, and then she put her arms up over her face and head to protect her from the rest.

"Come on guys, that's enough." It was Juliette, and she actually sounded like she felt a little guilty.

The onslaught stopped. Marlene peeked between her arms. Juliette was looking away from her, focusing all her attention on the other two girls, but Marlene was sure she looked uncomfortable.

"What? Wasn't that _mild_ enough for our _sensitive friend_?" Heather asked smugly. Throwing one last handful for good measure, she said, "Fine. Let's go."

The three girls walked away, leaving Marlene to pick off banana peels and egg shells. Hot tears burned behind her eyes. _Dontcrydontcrydontcrydontcry._ She couldn't stop them. They burned trails down her dirty face and dripped off her chin. That was how Denzel found her.

* * *

When they arrived back at Seventh Heaven, Marlene tugged on Denzel's sleeve. "Wait! I can't let Cloud and Tifa see me like this."

Denzel gave her a stern look. He still didn't seem too thrilled about the idea of keeping this whole thing a secret from them.

"Please, Denzel. Just help me," she begged.

He sighed. "Alright, fine. Just go around the corner so you're not right out in the open. I'll go make sure the way is clear, and then you can sneak in and get in the shower before they see you."

He nudged her in that direction and she hurried around to the side of the building while Denzel slipped inside. She made an attempt to finger-comb her hair, but it seemed that she was only succeeding in spreading the slimy substance. She sighed and gave up. What was she going to do? Clearly this was a problem that she needed to solve on her own, but _how_? Physically, she couldn't stand up to three girls at once. Maybe she should ask Tifa to teach her martial arts. But as quickly as the thought surfaced, she dismissed it. Violence wasn't the answer.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Denzel appeared around the corner. He joined her in the shadows. "Hold still," he ordered, squeezing his Restore materia in his hand.

A green glow peeked between his fingers. Marlene sighed as the cool, tingling feeling spread over her injuries. The swollen bruise on her cheek melted and faded away. Her knee throbbed one last time and then was quiet. Denzel was getting pretty good at healing, she reflected with a surge of pride. She almost could have passed for normal now, if not for the mess in her hair and shirt.

"Ok," Denzel said, pocketing the materia. "I didn't see anyone, but just stay behind me just in case we run into someone.

Marlene nodded and followed him to the front. Denzel poked his head through the door and looked around, and then motioned for her to follow. They made it across the bar. He pushed open the kitchen door and walked over the threshold, but as soon as Marlene tried to follow she was smacked in the face with the door.

A moment later she heard Tifa's voice. "Hey Denzel! How was school?"

"Uh, fine. Just, you know… a regular day." Marlene rolled her eyes. He was such a terrible actor.

Then she heard the next-worst sound. The front door opened behind her. In fact, it was slammed open, banging against the wall before bouncing back. She pressed herself into the shadows next to the kitchen door, hoping she wouldn't be noticed, but the man's eyes immediately locked on her. He was dressed in a respectable suit, but his face was red with anger.

"I need to see Strife. Right now."

Marlene recognized him from the bar. Jameson Keenan. He hated Cloud with a passion. This could only be bad news.

"Oh. Um...let me go see if he's here," she said, keeping the strain out of her voice. At least he didn't seem to notice her disheveled appearance in the shadows. She pushed against the kitchen door, but it opened only a few inches, smacking into Denzel.

He kicked it back, his voice getting unnaturally higher-pitched. "Hey, actually, can you show me where you got those vegetables?"

 _Seriously, **such** a bad actor!_

Tifa's voice, quiet but still audible: "I got them from the garden, Denz. Out back."

 _"Denzel!"_ Marlene hissed through the door.

"Uh, yeah, I know, but I want to see where they're all planted." Denzel raised his voice and kicked the door again. "We've been learning about plants in school and I just thought they were interesting. So I thought maybe you could teach me about the ones you grow."

"Um, sure, I guess," Tifa said, sounding confused. "Just let me wash my hands first."

Marlene pushed against the door, banging into Denzel's foot again.

"No!" Denzel said loudly. "I mean, they'll just get dirty again. So let's go outside. Right now."

Marlene glanced behind her, wondering if the man was going to say anything about her inability to open doors. He was pacing angrily, not even looking at her at the moment.

Tifa sounded amused. "Ok, if it's that important to you," she said. "Come out back."

Marlene was just about to try the door again when it was flung open from the other side.

"Jeez Mar, couldn't you hear me talking?" Denzel muttered.

"Of course I could hear you," Marlene hissed. "But someone came in behind me and I look like an idiot standing here trying to get through the kitchen door. He asked to talk to Cloud!"

Denzel glanced over her shoulder and saw the angry-looking man pacing in the bar area. "Ok, I'll handle him. Just get upstairs," he whispered.

Marlene didn't need to be told twice. She darted past him and up the stairs.

* * *

Denzel walked out into the bar area to greet the pacing man. "I'm sorry, Cloud's not here right now. Can I help you with something?"

The man paused and looked him up and down, eyes narrowed, and finally said, "You must be the boy. _Den_ zel." He spit his name like it was a disease.

Denzel gulped as he got a good look at his face. It was the man from his drawing, and he was even more intimidating in person. He towered over Denzel in his business suit. A drop of sweat trickled down next to a hairline just beginning to recede, and his belly strained against the buttons of the suit as he breathed in and out.

"Um, yes, sir," Denzel stammered.

He was rescued from further interrogation by the kitchen door swinging open. "Denzel, are you coming or—Oh! Hello Jameson! It's been a long time." Tifa put a hand on her hip as she took in his heavy breathing and confrontational stance. "Is something wrong?" The concern in her voice was soothing and the redness in the man's face started to fade.

"Oh, Tifa," he said, his gruff voice becoming more gentle. "Sorry to barge in like this, but I need to talk to Strife. Where is he?"

She gave him a pleasant smile and the man seemed to relax another degree. "He's out on a delivery right now, but he should be back in a few hours. I can have him call you when he gets in."

In his mind, Denzel thanked Tifa for her unfailing ability to calm anyone down.

Jameson sat down on one of the stools at the bar counter. "That's ok. I'll wait."

Tifa blinked, but recovered quickly. People seemed to forget this was a home when it was not serving as a bar. "Oh. Ok, sure. Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah. Give me something stiff, honey."

"You got it, Jay." She glanced up. "Denzel, get started on your homework."

Sighing, Denzel sat down at their usual table and pulled out his books. He didn't bother arguing that they had the entire break for homework; the rule had always been homework first. Besides that, he didn't have any desire to leave Tifa and this man alone. Jameson shot daggers at him with his eyes, ignoring the glass Tifa set before him. Denzel pretended to be engrossed in his textbook, although Civics was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

"So Jameson," Tifa said smoothly, drawing his attention back to her. "I heard that you had started your own company." She laughed lightly. "You always were the entrepreneur of our crew. I can't say I'm surprised."

The man puffed out his chest proudly. "Well, yes, it was very difficult, but I got it started about a year ago—"

Denzel watched them out of the corner of his eye. The bar wouldn't be open for hours, but Tifa was the ever-perfect hostess, and she patiently refilled his drink and chatted casually with him as though she had nothing better to do, like get ready to open the place for _paying_ customers.

Jameson took every opportunity to touch Tifa. He was constantly squeezing her arm or touching her hip. Each time he put his hand on her, she politely stepped away, but he didn't seem to be taking the hint – or if he did, he was still being creepily hopeful.

At some point, Marlene had come downstairs, freshly showered, and pulled out her own textbooks at their table. Denzel tried to concentrate on his homework, but it was hard to block out the voice of the man talking about himself nonstop. Tifa was getting set up for the night behind the bar – at least the part she could do up front – but making the appropriate noises to show she was listening to his bluster.

Denzel no longer ran outside to greet him every time he heard Fenrir, but he always felt a little safer when Cloud came home. Even today, knowing that he was about to get in trouble, he felt relieved at the familiar sound of the engine. He just wanted the whole scene over with at this point.

The door opened and Cloud walked in. It looked like it had been a rough delivery. His face was dirty and there were splashes of blood from some beast on his arm and the front of his shirt. He was wiping at his face with a clean corner of his shirt, so he didn't immediately see the man sitting at the bar. "Tifa," he groaned, "you wouldn't believe what—"

His face dropped into its stoic mask when he noticed their guest, but his voice was pleasant enough. "Jameson Keenan? Good to see you again." He eyed the glass in his hand. "Getting an early start tonight?"

Jameson set down his glass on the bar loudly. "About time, Strife."

Cloud gave him a bland smile. "Yeah, busy day. Did you need something from me?" He walked behind the bar and turned on the sink, wetting his hands and forearms and then slathering them with soap.

"Yeah. I got a beef with your kid."

Cloud continued scrubbing calmly. "Which one?"

Jameson was flustered for a minute, clearly not expecting Cloud to claim Marlene. "The uh…the boy. _Den_ zel."

Cloud turned off the water and took the towel from Tifa's hands to dry off. "Marlene, go finish your homework in your room."

Marlene gathered up her books and papers without a word. Denzel tried to skulk out behind her.

"Not you, Denzel," Tifa warned. "Sit."

Looking glum, Denzel sat back down in his chair and finished putting his books and papers away, and fidgeted with the strap of his backpack nervously.

Jameson seemed to have forgotten his anger while he was busy flirting with Tifa, but he was starting to get worked up again. The redness was coming back into his face. "That's right. You and me and the boy need to have some words." He looked back at Tifa apologetically. "I'm sure you don't want to hear this Tifa. You should leave."

Tifa raised an eyebrow and Denzel covered his laugh with a fake cough. He could almost hear the thoughts in Tifa's head. _He did **not** just try to kick me out of my own bar to have a discussion about **my** family!_ Out loud, she only said coolly, "Denzel's mine, too. If he's done something wrong, you can talk to both of us." She took Cloud's hand as they walked to the table.

Jameson's eyes flickered to their linked hands and a look of disbelief crossed his face. He stood up to his full height and tried to look intimidating as he grabbed his glass and followed them to the table where Denzel sat bouncing his foot nervously. The twins' father was taller, but Cloud was an imposing figure of solid muscle and cool blue eyes that could not be intimidated, least of all by some overweight, posturing businessman. The blood still smeared on his clothes probably didn't hurt, either.

Once everyone was seated, he jabbed a manicured finger in Denzel's direction, but directed all his frustration at Cloud. "Your boy is a thug and a bully, Strife. You're raising him to be just like you, and he's a danger to the innocent citizens of this town. I know he was the one who started that big fire. _You_ lured all those beasts into town and _he_ almost burned it down." He was practically quivering with anger. "You know how many houses and businesses were damaged that day? He's just as unstable as you, and he needs to be locked up before he hurts anyone else!"

There was a period of silence following his dramatic pronouncement while Cloud calmly assessed the bigger man. "Did something happen that you'd like to tell us about, Jameson? Or did you come just to call him names and fling accusations?" His voice was low and mild, highlighting the excessive drama of the bigger man.

Jameson's hands formed into fists and a scowl locked in place. "Yeah, I got something to tell you. That little punk assaulted both my boys for absolutely no reason today." He leaned forward and his eyes narrowed on the teen. "He broke Jesse's nose and he practically beat Jason unconscious. And then, when they were both on the ground and helpless, he tried to set them on _fire_."

Denzel scoffed loudly, but Cloud shot him a warning look, so he closed his mouth.

The burly man redirected his furious gaze to Cloud. " _That_ was a mistake. See, now I know the truth, Strife. You convinced the rest of the town that you didn't start that fire, and you know what? I believe you, too. That kid is just as deranged as you. _He_ is the one who started the fire. I'm going to make sure –"

"Jay, none of us had any fire materia that day," Tifa cut him off, her blazing eyes the only indication that her limits were being pushed. "Denzel didn't start that fire."

Jameson shifted his focus to her, softening. "Teef, I'm sure that's what they told you, but he must've had it hidden on him somewhere. Can't you see those two are trouble?" He leaned forward and lowered his voice to an intimate level. "I'm worried about you living here with them. It's not safe."

This time, Denzel couldn't hold back his incredulous snort. Was this guy for real? If he honestly thought either Cloud or Denzel were dangerous, it would have been exceedingly stupid to call attention to that fact _right in front of them_. It wasn't as if Jameson could stop Cloud – heck, probably not even Denzel – if he were truly a threat to Tifa. Even to a boy, it was a transparent attempt to make himself look like a hero in Tifa's eyes. Unfortunately for him, there was nothing Tifa hated more than to be treated like a delicate flower who needed protecting.

She leaned back in her chair and put her hand on Cloud's knee, claiming and calming him at the same time. Denzel could see the tension in the way Cloud held himself, but he heeded her wordless reassurance and let her handle it.

"I'm fine, Jameson," she bit out.

His eyes were pleading and he reached for her free hand, which she pulled away. "Look, since Marcy died, we have some extra space. You could come stay with us, and—"

Denzel was truly shocked at the man's stupidity. He glanced over at Cloud to see how he was reacting to all this. His face showed nothing, but the bulge of his jaw muscles and the ice in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Jameson. Drop it." Tifa's voice carried a warning that no man would be stupid enough to ignore, even if he missed the clench of Cloud's jaw, and he wisely snapped his mouth shut. There was an uncomfortable silence as they all looked at each other.

Cloud cleared his throat. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell us about Denzel?" he asked tightly.

The heavy man's face reddened again. "That's not enough?"

"It's enough," Cloud said firmly. "Denzel will be disciplined. Did anything else happen?"

Denzel winced inwardly. _That_ didn't sound good.

"Well, that's…no. I mean, nothing else that I know of." Jameson seemed put out that his pronouncement hadn't triggered more of a reaction. "But to be honest, Strife, I don't have much faith in your 'parenting' ability. So if I ever catch him out on the street, I'll teach that boy a lesson myself!"

Denzel's eyes flickered to Tifa. _Strike three,_ he thought, holding back his smile as he enjoyed Tifa's predictable reaction. She hauled Jameson out of the chair by his arm and stared him down with the fierceness of a lioness protecting her cubs. She spoke quietly, but with a tone that chilled the room. " _We_ will discipline Denzel. If you so much as lay a finger on my child, I will hunt you down myself, Jameson. Now get out of my house."

He looked completely startled by her anger. _He really doesn't know her as well as he thinks he does,_ Denzel thought gleefully.

Jameson struggled to recover her good graces. "Tifa, I—"

Her eyes flared. "Get. Out."

The man was more than a foot taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier than Tifa, but he cowered under her withering look and shuffled out the door after some mumbled attempts at an apology.

Denzel had never felt more proud of his unofficial guardians. They had shown a unified front and made it clear that they wouldn't be bullied. In fact, Cloud and Tifa seemed angrier at Jameson than at him. Maybe this wouldn't be as painful as he'd thought.

* * *

He was wrong. So wrong. It was painful. Cloud and Tifa had given him a chance to tell his side, but it didn't seem to make much difference. They were _furious_ with him.

Their anger and disappointment was bad enough to deal with, but the punishment was even worse. Cloud counted out the terms on his fingers.

"No phone, no TV, no video games, no friends, no skateboard. You will bring your sword and materia to me. Tifa will give you a list of chores to complete around the bar and the apartment. During the break, you are not to leave unless Tifa sends you somewhere for a specific task. After the break, you will come straight home after school and work on either homework or the chores."

"After the.." Denzel sputtered. "How long am I grounded?"

"Until further notice," Cloud growled. "Until we're sure you've learned your lesson."

Denzel was reeling. They had _never_ punished him like this before. "But…but I have a date!" he protested.

"Too bad."

"Can I at least call her to cancel—"

"No." Cloud wasn't budging.

"But she—" Denzel tried to interrupt again, and again Cloud spoke over the top of him.

"The answer is no. And if we ever—" Cloud put his palms on the table and leaned forward to make sure he had the boy's attention "— _ever_ hear of you using weapons or magic to threaten another student, we're done."

Denzel felt like he'd been stabbed through the heart. "Done?" he squeaked. "You're going to kick me out?"

Cloud's eyes softened just a bit. "Done training you," he clarified. "Taking away your sword and materia. We're not teaching you these things so you can threaten anyone who irritates you. We're teaching you how to defend yourself and others in a life or death situation."

Denzel felt a surge of anger. He made it sound like some kid had been poking him with a pencil. He'd been trying to defend the man, and he was getting punished for it! "Yeah, but you should have heard the stuff they were saying about you, Cloud! The stuff Jameson was telling them."

Cloud's expression didn't change. "So?"

"So?! I couldn't just let them talk about you like that."

Cloud sighed and sat down at the table, rubbing his face. "Denz, no matter who you are or what you do, there are going to be some people that just don't like you. If you let it get to you, you'll spend your whole life trying to be who _they_ think you should be instead of becoming the person _you_ want to be."

Denzel scowled and pushed back from the table. "Fine, you know what? I don't care what they say about you. I'm never standing up for you again. Are we done now?"

Cloud sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "Yeah, we're done."

The boy pushed back his chair with a screech and stormed past them, too angry to even ask about the black handprints marking the table where Cloud had been standing.

* * *

Marlene didn't remember her real parents. They had died when she was too young to recall their faces. Barret had been "Daddy" for as long as she could remember, and she knew he loved her, but she had come to accept that he simply wasn't capable of providing her a stable home. He had too many demons of his own and it seemed that he needed to deal with them without the burden of a little girl to care for.

In the beginning, she had wanted to believe that her living situation with Cloud and Tifa was just temporary. Every time Barret came to visit, she packed her little pink suitcase and waited hopefully for him to say "C'mon, Marlene, let's go home." Every time she felt the stabbing pain of disappointment as she unpacked her suitcase after he left.

In her fantasies, she had imagined that he would take her to a tidy little house with a white wooden fence and lots of pets. Then one day, her fantasy changed: Barret took her home, but when she went inside, all she could picture was Seventh Heaven. To her, home was round bar stools that she had to climb up to reach, that she would sit upon and spin in circles until she was too dizzy to stand. Home was the designated "family" table in the bar where they gathered every morning and evening; the little bedroom where Denzel had drawn chalk pictures on the wall to make her smile and they sat up late whispering in the dark; the bathroom where Cloud had made his first sloppy attempt at braiding her hair, and then did it over and over until she was satisfied; the big industrial-size kitchen where Tifa cooked fabulous meals; the garage filled with the smell of grease and oil and the sound of clanking tools on metal; the leather seat on Fenrir where she felt Cloud's solid frame at her back, the safety of his arms on either side of her, the wind flying through her hair.

In her new fantasy, Barret was there, but in the background. Home was Cloud and Tifa and Denzel, and wherever she went, it would no longer be home without them.

Once she understood and accepted this, she still looked forward to Barret's visits, but with one fundamental difference. In her mind, they were _only_ visits. Her place was here, and she knew that she would always have a place here, no matter what happened.

Of course she knew that a bar isn't an ideal environment for raising a little girl, but she really couldn't have asked for a better role model than Tifa. Marlene learned about hard work and responsibility; she learned when to use a soft touch and when to stand up for herself. She also learned how to observe and read people.

She knew that adults underestimated her because of her small stature, wide eyes, and her sweet voice. She was not above using this to her advantage, and adults' perception of her as naïve and clueless meant their tongues were looser than they should have been around her. As she bussed tables and swept the floor, they assumed they could talk over her head and she wouldn't understand. On the contrary, behind her innocent front was actually an extremely sharp, observant mind. She blended into the world of adults seamlessly, which may have been the reason that it was harder for her to fit in with kids her own age. Kids had different motivations. Their reasoning was different. She just didn't understand them the way she understood adults.

In the bar, Marlene watched the townspeople come and go. She watched how Cloud and Tifa and Denzel interacted with each other, with acquaintances and strangers. She knew the personalities and habits of everyone who regularly crossed the threshold of Seventh Heaven, and as such, she knew that the _real_ conversation would take place after Denzel left the room.

After dutifully finishing her homework in her bedroom, she had decided that it would be a nice gesture to clean the kitchen. Hadn't she noticed that the stove could use an extra good scrubbing? If she happened to be close enough to overhear their conversation, they couldn't possibly fault her for wanting a nice clean stove, right?

By the time she was within hearing distance, the angry man had left, and Denzel was in the middle of having his punishment handed down. Cloud was _really_ mad. Marlene felt a little sorry for her brother when he stormed up the stairs without even noticing her in the kitchen. Cloud and Tifa both lowered their voices, and she noticed that the counter nearest the swinging door looked a little dirty, too. She crept closer, using Denzel's stomping footsteps as cover for her own.

Tifa's voice sounded strained. "..you know Jameson carries a lot of weight with the council. I'm afraid he's going to make trouble for Denzel."

"He won't," Cloud said firmly. "I'll go talk to the council. I'm going to take credit for the fire."

"Cloud, you can't! He's already convinced a few people that the monsters are being drawn in by you. He can make a case to get you kicked out if—"

"I know! I know. And that's why I let you talk me out of it before. But I'm not going to let him use Denz to get back at me." His voice softened. "You heard what they said at the town meeting. It won't be easy for him to turn everyone against me after—"

"Yeah but—"

"Do you have a better idea, Tifa?" Cloud interrupted harshly. "Because you know Jameson is dangerous and we have no idea what he's going to do. At best, he could easily get Denzel taken away from us."

Tifa sounded shocked. "At best?"

"Yeah," Cloud murmured. "At worst…he could get him locked up, prosecuted, or arrange a tragic accident when he's alone."

In the kitchen, Marlene shivered. She had recognized the man. He served on the board for Reconstruction of Commerce in Edge. She knew he had lost his wife in some kind of accident years before, and that he still considered the barmaid 'his Tifa'. She knew that he had grown up with Cloud and Tifa, that the relationship he boasted about with Tifa was much closer than Marlene had ever observed, and that for some reason he seemed to think Cloud had stolen her away from him.

He really hated Cloud. Marlene overheard him ranting to his friends at Seventh Heaven on more than one occasion, but it was awfully hard to turn people against the Hero of Midgar.

Still, it was hard to believe that Jameson would do something so vicious to a 14-year-old boy. Then again, Barret was fun and loving, but no one wanted to be in his way when his little girl was threatened.

Tifa spoke hesitantly, drawing Marlene from her thoughts. "Give me a few days. I can fix this."

"I don't know if Jameson is going to wait that long."

"I can deal with Jameson. He still has a soft spot for me—"

"Really?" Cloud muttered sarcastically.

"—and I'm sure I can talk him into some leniency."

"…Talk?"

"Yes, talk." Her voice was clipped, offended by what he was insinuating. "But in the meantime…I think you should keep Denzel out of sight. Out of town." She hesitated for a moment. "And you, too."

"No way, Tifa!"

"Honestly, do you think I can't handle that man?" Marlene couldn't see her face, but she still imagined the look she was giving Cloud.

"Of course not. You'd have him knocked out before he knew what hit him if he tried anything."

"So what are you so worried about? Besides, he still holds such a grudge against you…it's almost like he can't listen to reason when he sees your face. I think if I can get him to calm down, he'll listen to me.

Cloud sighed. "I don't know about this, Tifa. Where are we supposed to go?"

"Abe's been asking you to make that delivery to his friend way out in the mountains, right?"

"Yeah," Cloud snorted, "and it's a three day drive mostly through undeveloped wilderness."

"Exactly," Tifa said. "Tell him you'll take the job, and take Denzel with you. It will buy me some time to get Jameson calmed down." She paused. "I need you to trust me on this, Cloud."

There was silence on the other side of the door, but Marlene knew them well enough to understand that Tifa had won the argument. She walked quietly halfway up the steps and then loudly back down again. Pushing the swinging door open boldly, she walked carelessly out into the bar area. "Oh, hey guys. I'm done with my homework. Are we eating anytime soon?"

Tifa quickly painted a smile on her face. "Yeah, we're having leftovers. Cloud and Denzel need to hit the road before it gets any darker."

Marlene acted surprised. It was a craft she had perfected, knowing far more secrets than anyone suspected. "Really? Where are they going?"

"Cloud has a long-distance delivery, so they're going to make a camping trip out of it."

Denzel caught the tail end of the conversation as he came down the stairs. " _Excuse_ me? Do I get a say in this?" he asked moodily.

Tifa gave him her sternest look. "No, you don't. You two need to have some guy time."

"Really? Sounds like a blast," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "All day on the bike and then sleeping on the hard ground at night."

"You're grounded all week anyway, Denzel. Would you rather be stuck in the house doing chores?" She asked it in the form of a question, but her tone made it clear that there was only one right answer.

Denzel scowled. "Yipee. Can't wait for guy time."

* * *

They all ate quickly that evening. The boys were exempt from cleanup because they needed to leave as soon as possible. Marlene grumbled about it being Denzel's turn as she brought the dishes back into the kitchen. Of course she _knew_ why they needed to leave right away, but that didn't stop her from complaining about the extra chores.

"Marlene! Wait!" Denzel caught her by the arm and held out a folded piece of paper.

Marlene set the dirty dishes in the sink and took the paper suspiciously. She unfolded it and scoffed. It was a phone number and "Alicia" written in curly script. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"I need you to call her tomorrow," he said, his eyes pleading. "I'm grounded from the phone and I need to tell her that I can't make it for our date this week."

Marlene raised an eyebrow. "You want me to call your girlfriend and tell her you're ditching her," she said dryly.

"No! Just tell her I had to leave town unexpectedly and that I'll call her when I get back." Marlene didn't look convinced, so he made an attempt at her big puppy dog eyes. " _Please_ , Mar!"

Of course Marlene would do it; he had been a huge help after school and she wasn't going to refuse him a favor, but that didn't mean she had to sound _too_ willing. "This is going to be the mother of all awkward conversations, but…fine. I'll call her tomorrow."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Marlene!" He gave her a big, loud kiss on the cheek, which she promptly wiped off with a grimace.

"Oh, here." She reached over to the hooks by the back door and handed him the helmet. "You know Fenrir doesn't have a speedometer."

"Yes it does," he said, making a face as he put on the helmet and secured the strap under his chin. "Cloud just doesn't know how to read it. How come he makes us wear one, but he doesn't have to?"

"Because he's not breakable," Marlene smirked as she patted the top of the helmet. "Have fun, Denz."

* * *

The sun was already setting by the time they packed their few bags in Fenrir's compartments. Denzel couldn't believe he was being forced to go along with this stupid trip. He was already angry with Cloud, and the idea of putting up with him for a week straight sounded like the worst possible way to spend the school break. Maybe they had decided this would be a better punishment for him.

"Uh, why are we leaving tonight? It's already getting dark. Why don't we sleep in our beds for one more night and leave in the morning?" Denzel was trying his best to sound diplomatic, but he was so irritable that he didn't think he pulled it off.

"No," Cloud said shortly. "We need to leave tonight."

"We're just gonna have to stop in an hour anyway. What's the point?"

Cloud adjusted his goggles and started Fenrir. "Get on, Denzel."

If he hadn't already been in so much trouble, he might have argued further, but Cloud was clearly not in a negotiating mood. Arguing would have only made things worse for Denzel. He sighed and sat on the seat behind Cloud and held on tight.

* * *

"Marlene, I need to go out for a while," Tifa said as they cleaned up the breakfast dishes the next day. "I need to go talk to a friend. I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Talk to a friend?" Marlene said innocently. "Can I come with?"

"Um, no, I don't think that's a good idea this time," Tifa hedged.

"Why? Which friend are you going to see? Doesn't your friend like me?" She turned her big brown eyes on Tifa.

Tifa softened under the force of those eyes, as always. "No, of course he doesn't dislike you, sweetie. It's just going to be a very serious talk."

Marlene was getting frustrated with how vague Tifa was being. "Are you going to go visit that angry man that was in here last night about Denzel?"

Tifa looked startled. "Well, yes. I am. And it really should be a private conversation."

"What if he tries to make a move on you?"

A startled laugh escaped from Tifa before she could suppress it. "Make a move?"

Marlene scowled. "Yes. I saw the way he was acting before Cloud got home yesterday. I don't trust him alone with you."

Tifa put her hands on her hips, looking irritated. "Really, Marlene, do you think I can't handle Jameson by myself?"

"No, I think you would kick his butt if he tried something."

"Exactly, so—"

"And that would just make him madder, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, probably, but—"

"And you need him to not be mad at you. Right?"

Tifa sighed and her arms dropped to her sides. "What's your point, Marlene?"

"Well, he wouldn't try anything in front of a little girl, would he?"

Tifa considered the girl thoughtfully.

"Wouldn't it be best to avoid that kind of situation altogether?" Marlene prodded.

Slowly, a smile spread across Tifa's face. "You know, you're really wise beyond your years, little girl."

Marlene smiled smugly. "I'm not really a little girl anymore. But I know that's how Jameson will see me anyway."

The smile faded slowly as Tifa tucked a lock of hair behind Marlene's ear. "No, you're not, are you?" she asked quietly. "Ok, let's go," she said, holding out her hand. Together, they went to save Denzel.

* * *

The twins and their father lived only a few blocks away from Seventh Heaven. A minute after Tifa rapped confidently on the wooden door, it was opened by a sullen-looking teen with a swollen nose and a black eye. "Hello Jesse," Tifa said pleasantly. "Is your father home?"

Jesse ignored her and studied Marlene. "You look better than the last time I saw you," he said suspiciously.

"You don't," Marlene retorted.

Jesse scowled and turned around. "Dad! Door!" he yelled. Without another word, he walked into the depths of the house, leaving the door open with the girls standing on the doorstep.

"What's he talking about, Marlene?" Tifa asked.

"Nothing," Marlene muttered.

"We'll talk about this later," Tifa whispered as Jameson came into view in the darkened house.

"Tifa!" he boomed grandly. "Please, come in! It's so nice to see you! Oh, and your little girl, too." He leaned over and patted Marlene on the head like a dog.

Marlene kept her eyes wide and her smile plastered on as Jameson ushered them inside. "Coffee? Tea? Lemonade? Something stronger?" he asked, winking at Tifa.

"Coffee would be wonderful, thank you." Tifa said pleasantly.

"May I have some lemonade?" Marlene asked sweetly.

Jameson squatted down in front of her with difficulty. "Of course you can. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Marlene," she said, batting her eyes again for good measure.

"Coming right up, honey. The boys are playing video games in the family room if you want to join them," he said. "I bet you get bored listening to grownups talk, don't you?"

"Umm, I don't really like video games. But I brought some coloring with me," she said, letting her mini backpack slide from her shoulders onto the floor. "I'd rather stay close to Tifa."

"Oh. Of course." Jameson grabbed the chair and used it to pull his bulk back up. "I'll be right back. Have a seat," he said, smiling.

Tifa and Marlene sat down at the small, round table, and Marlene pulled out a coloring book. Tifa gave her a look as if to say _'Laying it on a little thick?'_ but Marlene just smiled serenely and started coloring. To her credit, it was an intricate design that she was neatly filling in with colored pencils, not really a child's coloring book. She hadn't actually said or done anything that looked like she was _intentionally_ misleading him about her age, so was it really her fault if he made incorrect assumptions?

Jameson returned with their drinks and sat down across from Tifa. "I'm glad you came to see me, Teef. Where is uh…Strife?" His voice was neutral enough, but Marlene heard the strain underneath it when he mentioned his name.

"Cloud and Denzel are out of town," Tifa said lightly. "They're making a delivery way out in the mountains."

Jameson seemed to relax a little. "Is that so? That drive must take days. Won't you be lonely?"

"Not at all," Tifa said. "Marlene will be with me." She smiled down at the girl.

"But it will be just the two of you?" he persisted. "I hope you don't plan to advertise that. Some people might try to take advantage of two ladies alone."

Tifa set down her coffee and crossed her arms. "Really? Yesterday you were worried that Cloud was dangerous. Today you're worried that I'm in danger while Cloud's gone?"

Jameson sighed heavily. "Yeah. I owe you an apology. I might have overreacted yesterday. You don't know what it's like when something happens to your kids, though. You just go into this super-protective mode and—" He flinched at the look on her face. "Sorry, I guess you probably do know," he said, glancing at Marlene. "Anyway, at least I know that no one would dare try anything when he's around. But if he's gone…"

"You really need to get this stupid idea out of your head, Jay. Since when have I _ever_ needed a bodyguard?"

Tifa's voice had taken on an edge that made Marlene nervous. ' _Keep your cool, Tifa,'_ Marlene begged in her head. ' _Don't make him mad…'_

Luckily, Jameson diffused it himself. "You're right, Teef. I'm sorry. I know you can handle yourself. It's just, Marcy was so fragile, and sometimes I forget you're not her."

Tifa softened at the wistful look on his face. "It's ok. Actually, I owe you an apology, too. I shouldn't have been so…abrupt when you came to see us."

A smug smile flickered on his face.

"I meant what I said," Tifa clarified sharply. "You won't lay a finger on Denzel. But…maybe it was out of line to kick you out like that."

Jameson stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Everything's forgiven, Tifa. I suppose you can't help but be influenced by those ruffians living with you."

Tifa's muscles tensed, but her voice stayed level. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that, too. About Denzel. I told you we would hold him responsible for the fight with your boys, but he's really not a bad kid. He didn't do anything wrong on the night of the attack."

One of Tifa's hands was wrapped around her coffee mug and the other lay next to it on the table. Jameson reached over and held the unoccupied hand. The hand on her mug twitched, but she didn't pull it back.

Her leaned forward and looked at her earnestly. "Tifa, I know you've done your best with those orphans you take in. You are truly an admirable woman, the way you try to help those in need. Times are hard for everyone, yet you put everyone else before yourself. You've always been that way, even when you took Cloud in all those years ago."

Tifa's brow furrowed. "Jay, Cloud was hired by AVALANCHE as a highly trained specialist for their operations. We worked together. I didn't _take him in_. And when we were all traveling, he was the leader. If anything, he was taking care of _me—_ of all of us, really."

Jameson scowled slightly. Marlene supposed he didn't want to ruin the deliberately crafted image he had in his head of Cloud – dangerous, needy, selfish. "My point is that you can't save everyone, Tifa. Sometimes you just get a bad seed…or two…and they're just beyond help. It's _not your fault_ that you couldn't save Cloud or that boy." He squeezed her hand emphatically.

Tifa pulled her hand away to pour a dollop of cream in her coffee, although Marlene knew she drank it black. Her hand shook as she tilted the cream toward the cup.

"What did Denzel do that was so bad?" Marlene asked quietly.

Jameson looked surprised to hear her speak. "Sweetheart, you're a little too young to—"

"Jay thinks Denzel started the fire on the night of the monster attack," Tifa said, grateful for the girl's interruption.

"But he couldn't have," Marlene said serenely.

"What do you mean?" Tifa asked, tilting her head.

"He was already unconscious by the time the fire started." Marlene kept her eyes locked on Jameson's. She knew how people looked when they told lies, and she knew how they looked when they told the truth. She needed him to see the truth in her eyes.

Jameson scoffed loudly. "You couldn't possibly know—"

"She was right there," Tifa interrupted. "Marlene is a gifted healer. She was helping with the fight."

Jameson's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "Yeah but…how do you…I'm sure he was just _pretending_ to be out—"

Marlene sat up straight and gave him her most sincere look. "He was lying face-down on the ground, not moving, while a chuse tank was carving chunks out of his back. Trust me when I tell you: Denzel was unconscious. There was no possible way he started that fire."

Jameson's eyes flickered back and forth between the two girls. Marlene kept the innocent look on her face; she could almost see the thoughts in his head. If he wanted to continue blaming Denzel, he either had to discredit this perfectly behaved, well spoken little girl, or somehow prove that she was mistaken. In her mind, she dared him to try. She would welcome the challenge.

Finally, he got his thoughts together. "Fine. If the boy didn't do it, I still suspect Strife. Everyone knows he could do it easily."

Tifa sighed wearily. "Yes, everyone heard your argument at the town meeting. The elders said they believed Cloud's statement that he had no materia."

"Hm. Well, we'll see," Jameson said mysteriously.

Marlene gathered up her colored pencils and book and stowed them in her backpack. "Tifa, we're going to miss my lesson if we don't leave soon."

Tifa latched onto that. "Right. Well, thank you for your hospitality, Jay. I appreciate you hearing us out."

Jameson smiled as he stood, but the smile was sour. "You know you're welcome in my home anytime, Teef." He walked them to the door and held it open, but caught Tifa's wrist as she exited behind Marlene. "I mean it, you know. You should visit more often. I miss you," he murmured softly.

Tifa smiled kindly. "I'll check my schedule, Jay."

* * *

"Wow, could he be _any_ more pathetic over you?" Marlene moaned as soon as they were out of sight.

Tifa frowned down at her as they walked. "It's really hard to have feelings for someone who doesn't feel the same way back, Marlene. Try not to judge him too harshly."

"Oh," Marlene said, looking abashed. "Is that how you used to feel about Cloud?" When there was no response from Tifa, Marlene smiled sweetly. "Well, he can be kind of slow sometimes. It just took him a little longer to figure out that he loved you."

Tifa laughed out loud. "You know, you are quite the perceptive girl. By the way, thanks for your help with Jay back there. I get so worked up when he insults my family like that. I lose focus."

"You're welcome," she said happily. "So did it work? Is Denzel off the hook? We can call the boys and tell them to come home already!"

"Hm. Probably not quite yet. Jameson will stew on what we said and he'll come up with something else. I'm pretty confident we'll win this one, though. We can talk him out of anything else he comes up with."

After walking in silence for a few minutes, Tifa mused, "Denzel really clocked Jesse good, didn't he?"

"Yeah! I felt bad for him. Do you think we should offer to cure him?

Tifa snorted. "Heck, no! I want to make sure that kid learned his lesson." She looked sharply at Marlene. "Don't you dare tell Denzel I said that."


	4. Chapter 4 - Into the Woods

**Into the Woods**

* * *

 **DAY 1**

Apparently, Cloud didn't believe darkness was a good enough reason to stop driving. Denzel couldn't see a thing besides the blur of unidentified shapes flying by. He wondered if the man always drove like such a maniac or if he was making a special effort to terrify him. Since he usually only rode along on Fenrir in town, he was completely unprepared for the reckless speed with which Cloud drove through the wilderness. When they finally skidded to a stop, Denzel let himself slide bonelessly to the rocky ground.

"Oh thank you, Gaia!" he cried dramatically. "I'm still alive! He tried to kill me but I survived!" Denzel raised his arms to the sky from his place on the ground.

"Uh, Denzel? Are you ok?" Cloud removed his goggles and the glow pierced the night.

"Whoa…" Denzel sat up slowly. "They actually _glow in the dark_!" Of course he'd seen them in dim lighting before and he knew they were bright, but this was different. Out here in the middle of nowhere, without even the ambient light of the city to offset them, he could see that they actually _emitted_ light, not just reflected it.

The glowing blue orbs narrowed. "Yeah. You gonna help me set up camp or are you having some kind of hormone-driven teenage episode?"

"Are you serious? I can't see a thing. How am I supposed to—?"

A lantern flickered to life in Cloud's hand. "Here, take this. Go get some firewood together from those trees over there. I'll take care of the tent."

Denzel got to his feet and took the lantern. "Uh, ok. Sure. I can do that."

Cloud held his wrist before he could walk away. "Don't be gone too long, and don't put down the lantern. There are drogs in those woods, but they'll leave you alone as long as you have a light source with you."

"Ok, ok, I got it." Denzel trudged off toward the trees, holding the lantern high in front of him. He glanced back over his shoulder. The light from Cloud's eyes was seriously creepy. Did he honestly think Denzel would believe they didn't get that way from mako? Since Cloud couldn't easily get away from him during their forced bonding time, Denzel planned to use this trip to confront him about it.

The woods were filled with dead, dry branches. There would be no problem finding enough wood for the fire. The problem, Denzel soon discovered, was that he could only carry so much wood without setting down the lantern. But he didn't have any desire to meet a drog in dark, so he gathered as much as he could carry with one arm and brought it back to the tent. Cloud had somehow found enough wood nearby to get the fire started himself, and the tent and sleeping bags were already set up at his back.

Denzel dropped the armful of wood to the ground with a loud clatter. Cloud looked at the small pile and then up at him. His expression was easy enough to decipher. "I can only carry so much with one arm, you know!" Denzel defended.

Cloud sighed and rolled his head around on his neck. "It's fine. Just go to bed. It's late and we have a long way to drive tomorrow."

Denzel ignored his advice and sat down on the ground next to the fire. "So, Cloud."

Cloud looked up. His eyes weren't so obviously bright next to the fire, and the shadows flickering across his face made him look like a stranger. The dark outline of his spikes were familiar though, somehow always looking the same, despite the fact that the wind had been blowing his hair back all night. "What is it?"

"I was thinking about…I thought you said you never got any mako." He didn't mean for it to come out like an accusation, but it sounded that way even to his own ears.

Cloud's eyes shifted to the fire. "I never said that." He fed some sticks from Denzel's small pile to the fire. His voice was deadpan, completely unconcerned with defending himself from the teen's accusations.

Denzel tried again. "Yeah, you did! That day after I tried to split Tsurugi, you came to my room and you said—"

"I said I never made SOLDIER," Cloud said, sounding a bit more irritable. "Those are not the same thing."

"Oh…I didn't know there were other programs that gave mako shots." Denzel waited, but Cloud said nothing, just stared blankly into the fire. "So…how did you get the shots?"

Cloud's face showed a flicker of annoyance. "Denzel, it's late and I'm tired and it's really not a good time to go into this. Just go to bed. _Please_."

With a huff, Denzel got to his feet and stomped to the tent behind Cloud. Before he entered, he turned to look at his back. "You know what? You're a hypocrite. You tell me to always be honest with you. You think you have the right to know everything about my life, but you won't even answer a simple question about yours. And this is supposed to be our 'guy time'? What a joke. This sucks."

He could only see the silhouette of Cloud's back against the brightness of the fire. He lowered his head, but otherwise made no response to the accusations.

With a sigh of disgust, Denzel opened the tent with unnecessary force and went inside, pulling it closed behind him. He realized too late that he hadn't brought the lantern into the pitch black tent. Unfortunately, since he'd made his dramatic exit, he couldn't ruin it by going back out there to get it. He fumbled his way across the darkness and felt his way to a sleeping bag. It provided almost nonexistent padding against the rocky ground, and it was a long time before he was able to fall asleep. He never did hear Cloud come in.

* * *

 **Day 2**

The morning dawned far too early for Denzel. He rolled over, hoping to see Cloud still asleep so he could catch a few more minutes, but the tent was empty. He snuggled back into his sleeping bag anyway.

"Don't even think about it, Denz. It's time to get up." Cloud's voice drifted from outside the tent.

Denzel groaned. "You know, your super hearing is really irritating sometimes."

"Yep. I know. So quit trying to burrow back down. We've gotta get moving."

Cloud sounded entirely too _awake_ for a short night spent sleeping on the hard ground, and it made Denzel even more irritable. He threw back his sleeping bag angrily and climbed out of the tent.

At some point Cloud had gathered a huge pile of wood and tied it into compact bundles. It made Denzel's little stack from the night before look pathetic. The morning air was chilly after his warm sleeping bag. "Can we start a fire again? It's freezing."

"Sure we can, after we get some breakfast."

"Great, I'm starving. What did Tifa pack?"

For some reason, Cloud found this extremely amusing. "Pack? Come on Denz, we're camping! We get our own food." He headed off toward the woods.

 _This has got to be a joke. He can't be serious. He didn't bring any food? Any second now, he'll turn around and tell me it's a joke. It's in one of Fenrir's compartments._ _Go get it, Denzel, we'll warm it up._

But Cloud didn't turn around by the time he disappeared into the trees. Denzel groaned and dragged his feet to the woods. He had to jog a bit to catch up, the blanket of dead branches snapping loudly under his shoes.

By the time he reached him, Denzel was still feeling rather irritable, and the incessant growling of his stomach and severe shortage of sleep wasn't helping his mood. "How are we even supposed to find anything out here?" he complained. "You really didn't plan this very well, Cloud."

Cloud turned around with a snarl. "Could you just…" He made a visible effort to calm himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "Can you please just stand in one place and be quiet for a few minutes? We're never going to catch anything if the entire forest hears us stomping through."

Denzel huffed and sat down on a stump. "Fine. Whatever." He found a stick and poked aimlessly at the tree while he daydreamed about a big, fluffy stack of Tifa's pancakes. Pancakes being served by Alicia.

" _I made your favorite, Denzel." Her hair flowed loosely around her face and tickled his jaw as she leaned over him, setting the steaming plate in front of him. She stood there for a moment longer than necessary as he breathed in her strawberry shampoo._

 _His eyes followed her as she walked around to the other side of the table. She was wearing black knee-high tights with a blue skirt that swayed above her knees and a thin, clingy sweater. She smiled, flashing that adorable dimple that he always found so mesmerizing. "Someday I'll make these for you and bring them to you in bed."_

 _Denzel forgot about his breakfast. "Really?"_

" _Mm-hmm," Alicia purred. "You know, I've always liked you, Denzel. And I saw you out there fighting to save the town. You were so brave and strong and—"_

A shrill screech tore through his fantasy. Denzel sat there, frozen, waiting to see if all hell was about to break loose. The snap of twigs alerted him to something approaching – something big and heavy. He jumped to his feet, painfully aware that he had no weapons or materia. The cracking of wood grew louder. His mind raced in frantic circles as his heart hammered against his chest. _Run or fight? Run or fight?_

It was too late. The next crack was right behind him. He spun around with his fist swinging. It was met with something hard and unyielding.

"Is…everything ok?" Cloud asked cautiously. He had blocked Denzel's fist with the palm of his hand. In his other hand, a limp animal corpse dangled.

The realizations tumbled over Denzel. Cloud had been hunting for their food. The animal screeched when he killed it. Cloud wasn't bothering to tiptoe over the branches anymore because he had no more reason to sneak. And Denzel's hand _really_ hurt.

Flustered and embarrassed, Denzel focused his attention on the furry bundle in Cloud's hand. He wasn't an idiot; he knew where meat came from, but he wasn't used to seeing it so close to the living side. He made a horrified face. " _That's_ what we're eating?"

Cloud frowned. "Yeah. My mom used to make this all the time back home. It's pretty good."

"If you say so," Denzel muttered. He perked up as he spotted something bright blue through the trees. "Score! I found my _own_ breakfast!" He trotted over to the bush and pulled off a couple of juicy-looking fruits, big enough so that he could fit only a few in his hand. He was just about to take a taste of one when it was knocked away from him.

"Hey!" Denzel snapped. "What's your problem?"

He was dragged away from the delicious-looking bush unceremoniously by his arm. "Trust me," Cloud said. "You do not want those for breakfast, city boy."

Denzel jerked his arm away. "Alright, fine. You don't have to be such a jerk about it." He stormed off ahead, only to be called back a few seconds later.

"Wrong way, Denz. Camp is this way."

Denzel scowled. "I need to take a leak. I'll catch up with you at camp." It wasn't true, but he wanted an excuse to get away from Cloud for a while. He was really starting to get on his nerves.

When he rejoined him at camp a few minutes later, Cloud had already gotten the fire started and the animal stripped, and was roasting the meat on a stick. Denzel couldn't help being a little impressed - Cloud was really good at this kind of thing. He wasn't about to say it, though. He was still angry about the snide comments in the woods.

By the time they packed up and hit the road, the sun was baking the dry ground into flakes, and Fenrir sprayed the air behind them with rocks and dust. Denzel was a little better prepared for the terrifying speed, so he grabbed on tight and kept his eyes open a bit more this time. It also helped that the road was flatter and more open, so at least he wasn't worried about being impaled by a tree branch. He was actually starting to enjoy the feel of the wind against his skin and the sun at his back.

Around mid-day, they skidded to a stop near a peaceful-looking body of water. Denzel hopped off the bike and stretched. His legs were sore from hours in that position. _How does Cloud do this all day long?_

Cloud was digging in the storage compartments of the bike, so Denzel wandered over to the water, peeled off his shoes and socks, and dangled his toes off the edge of the bank. The water felt soothing on his hot feet and the water looked clean. He was parched, so he cupped his hands together and scooped up some water, lifting it to his mouth.

" _Denzel!_ What are you _doing_?"

Denzel let the water trickle between his fingers. "Uh…getting a drink?"

Cloud's voice was scathing. "Come on, man! You can't just drink water from _anywhere_!"

The teen's ears turned red. He wiped his damp hands on his shirt. "Well how am I supposed to know? _You_ never taught me! It's not like I had to worry about where my water came from on the plate. Jeez, you're such a jerk sometimes!" Denzel crossed his arms and stared stonily over the water.

After a moment, Cloud came to sit next to him on the bank, crossing his legs in front of him. Before he said a word, Denzel was running his mouth again. "This has got to be the worst punishment you could have come up with. I mean, did you literally just decide last night that I should spend my entire school break being dragged along to some delivery in the middle of nowhere?"

Startled by the sudden attack, Cloud just stared at him.

"I know I messed up, ok? I know I shouldn't have brought the materia to school to show off, and I shouldn't have lost my temper with Jesse. Yeah, it was stupid, and I'm sorry I did it, but it's totally not fair to make me do this!"

If he had cared enough to look, it would have been easy for Denzel to see the tension in Cloud's shoulders that should have been a warning. But wrapped up as he was in his own frustration and anger, he was completely oblivious.

"I mean, I'm doing _nothing_ except riding on the back of a bike all day and sleeping on the ground at night! _Chores_ are an acceptable punishment, but I might just die of boredom from this trip!"

The next second, Cloud was on his feet, glaring down at the boy, eyes flashing dangerously. Of course Denzel had known he was fast, but he didn't usually _use_ that speed outside of battle. His hands were curled into fists at his sides. Now he had the boy's attention. "You really don't get it, do you, Denzel? What you did was _beyond_ reckless and irresponsible. You attacked two unarmed civilians – kids, even! – using something that is misunderstood and feared by most of the Planet! And you did it in the middle of all this drama with the monsters attacking the town and everyone on edge and looking for someone to blame. And now you're…"

He stopped and drove his fingers into his own hair, making them into fists and tuggling harshly at the strands. As always, pain brought him back down, helped him focus. His arms dropped back to his sides.

"Stay here," he ordered roughly. "I need to go do something."

Cloud stormed off, pausing only to snatch First Tsurugi from Fenrir, assembling the sword in one smooth motion.

Denzel knew what he "needed" to do. Honestly, he wished he had the same option, and the feeling was strange to him. He'd never been prone to violence before, not to some random monsters that meant him no harm. But the feeling he got when his sword sliced through sinew and muscle was powerful, nearly euphoric. It was so unfair that Cloud had an outlet for his anger, but Denzel could only sit there and stew.

He wished Marlene were there. He wanted to rant and complain, and she would understand. She knew how infuriating Cloud could be.

A slight breeze ruffled his hair, and movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention: Cloud's phone, clipped to Fenrir as it always was when he was on the road. He _could_ complain to Marlene.

He snatched up the phone and dialed home. " _Seventh Heaven,"_ the familiar voice transmitted through the speaker.

"Marlene! Hey, it's Denzel." He was relieved that she had picked up the phone, because he wasn't sure he could have hidden his frustration from Tifa if she had answered.

" _Hey Denz! How's the camping trip?_ " she asked cheerfully.

"It sucks," Denzel growled. "Cloud is being a total pain, and I'm stuck with him for like four more days! I swear he's trying to make me as miserable as possible to punish me for what I did to Jesse. This is so unfair, Mar! I don't know if I can take any more of this. I mean, you know how Cloud is! When he gets all mad and his eyes get all bright and he talks in that low voice and you _know_ that you might as well give in because you just. can't. _win_."

He expected Marlene to agree. He thought she would sympathize and cluck her tongue and commend him for putting up with Cloud as much as he did. He did not expect dead silence from the other end of the phone.

"Marlene? Are you still there?"

He heard a soft exhale in response. " _Denzel, if I tell you something, you have to promise not to say anything to Cloud or Tifa_."

"Of course, Mar. You know I never do. What is it?"

" _Well, I overheard them talking after they grounded you the other night_."

Denzel snorted. It was uncanny the amount of things that girl "overheard", but he wasn't going to complain. "Yeah? What about it?

" _They sounded scared, Denz. They were afraid that Jameson would do something really bad to you. Tifa convinced Cloud to go on this trip and take you along so she could do some damage control. They're trying to_ _ **protect**_ _you, Denzel, and honestly, you sound like an ungrateful little brat right now_."

Marlene never was the kind to beat around the bush, and it really sounded like Denzel needed to be smacked in the face with the truth. She waited for his indignant response, expecting that she might need to beat him around the head with it a few more times, but there was nothing. Or at least, no words. She heard an unfamiliar sound, almost like something tearing, followed by some gasping breaths and weak coughing. Then there was some rustling and fumbling, and the unmistakable thump of the phone hitting the ground.

* * *

Cloud pulled his sword from the flan with a loud squelching sound as it slumped into a shapeless puddle. He rarely attacked flans with his weapon because it was extremely inefficient, but materia wouldn't do anything to work off his frustration, and the resistant, rubbery texture of the flan was just what he needed.

A familiar voice floated to his ears with the wind. He tilted his head to listen.

" _Cloud! CLOUD!"_

 _Marlene? Why did that sound like Marlene?_ His eyes widened. _Denzel!_

He took off at a sprint, running as fast as he could to the place he'd left Denzel. He didn't allow himself to think or imagine or speculate. He just ran, the boy's name playing on repeat in his mind.

His feet skidded as he turned sharply around the tight corner of the bluff that was blocking his view of the camp site.

A pain flashed through his core, white hot at the familiar scene before him. Denzel was slumped forward on the ground, impaled on the spiky arm of a capparwire that had driven through him from behind. "NO!" Cloud wasn't even aware he had screamed, as the vision in front of him flashed to a pretty girl with brown ringlets of hair and a pink dress, slumped over a long, thin blade.

Cloud's sword sliced straight through the center of the capparwire. The top half slid to the ground. _No no no no no not again please not again…_ He dropped the sword and knelt behind Denzel's limp form, bracing his shoulders with one arm. With the other, he grasped the spiky stump of the capparwire, pulling it out of his back as carefully as he could.

The blood flowed freely from his wound once the arm was removed, which brought immeasurable relief. It meant that his heart was still pumping. The arm hadn't gone through it. He could still save him. Cloud leaned him back against his chest, already calling out to the lifestream for healing. He wrapped his arms around Denzel's shoulders from behind and held him tightly as his body twitched.

"I've got you buddy. It's ok. I've got you." He murmured softly into his ear, knowing how much it hurt while his internal injuries were being healed, sewn together from the inside out, but at least it wouldn't take long.

The twitching stopped and Denzel opened his eyes and groaned. "Cloud?"

"Yeah. I'm right here. You're ok. I'm here."

"Mmm." His eyes slipped closed again. "Safe…" he mumbled.

There was nothing Denzel could have said that would tear Cloud apart more than that one word. He bowed his head, guilt and shame washing over him.

" _Cloud? Are you there? Cloud!_ "

Cloud startled, scanning for the source of Tifa's voice. He spotted his phone lying on the ground a few feet away, the light indicating the open connection. He leaned toward it carefully, trying to reach it without jostling Denzel.

"I'm here," Cloud said wearily into the phone.

Tifa's voice was tense. " _What just happened? Marlene was yelling your name into the phone and we heard all this commotion but no one would answer us. Is everything ok?_ "

Cloud closed his eyes. "Yes. No. Well, it will be."

" _Cloud_ ," she said sternly. " _Explain yourself_."

"I left him alone, Teef. I left him alone in the middle of the wilderness with no weapon. And he got attacked."

" _You left him_ _ **alone**_ _?_ _Cloud, what were you thinking? He's just a kid!"_

"I know," he groaned. "I don't know. We were arguing and I got so mad and I just…"

" _You went off to deal with it alone."_

"Yeah," he sighed.

" _Why is it so hard for you to just_ _ **talk**_ _to people when you're upset? You can't just keep…"_

"I _know_ , Tifa. Not right now. Please. I…I need to get the tent set up so Denzel has someplace to sleep. I'll call you later tonight, ok?"

" _Okay_." Tifa sounded resigned and she heard the click of the connection closing. " _Be safe…_ " she said softly.

* * *

Denzel opened his eyes to dark canvas and sweat. The sun struggled through the navy tent, heating the interior to a roasting degree. Cloud had removed his socks and shoes and shirt, so he wasn't as hot as he could have been. He was also not covered in blood, so he must have cleaned him up, too.

He remembered flashes of how he'd gotten here, but the phone call was crystal clear in his memory. His face burned as he remembered Marlene's words. _Ungrateful brat…_ Yeah, he should apologize, but how was he supposed to do that without admitting that he knew why they were out there?

He pushed his sweaty bangs back from his face and crawled out of the tent. The sun had moved across the sky, marking a few hours that had passed while he slept. Cloud was sitting by the water where they'd had their argument, sitting perfectly still and staring at nothing. Denzel walked up slowly and sat down next to him.

Cloud didn't give any indication that he was aware of the boy sitting there, but he was the one to break the silence first. "I know this trip hasn't been that great for you—"

"No," Denzel interrupted. "It's not your fault. It's my attitude. I've been so moody and angry lately and…I don't know why."

The corner of Cloud's lip quirked with the hint of a smile. "Hormonal teenager?"

A slight smile cracked Denzel's face, too. "Can I use that as an excuse?"

"For the next 5 years, at least," Cloud said.

Denzel laughed. "I'll try not to abuse it."

The smile melted from Cloud's face as he finally looked over at him. "You were right though. I shouldn't just expect you to know these things. I guess I take them for granted, but had to learn them once, too. I'll teach you, ok?"

"Cool," Denzel grinned. "You mean like right now?"

"Um, maybe not right now. There's plenty of daylight left. We should put on a few more miles before we stop for the night."

"Ok," Denzel shrugged. "I'm really hot, though. Can I take a quick swim before we go?"

"Please do," Cloud agreed, getting to his feet. "I don't think I could stand your smell much longer."

With a mischievious smile, Denzel asked innocently, "Are you sure I can swim in just _any_ water?"

Cloud stood close behind him, his boot right behind Denzel's butt. "Yeah, smart aleck. Just don't drink it."

Before Denzel knew what was happening, Cloud slid his boot under him and lifted his foot, sending Denzel flying into the pond face-first.

He came up sputtering and spitting. "Hey!" But he really couldn't stay mad, especially hearing the rare sound of Cloud's laughter.

"I'm gonna pack up the tent. You've got 10 minutes."

* * *

They stopped earlier than usual that evening. They had completely forgotten lunch in all the excitement that afternoon, and they were both starving by the time they stopped by a large forest. The wind had picked up a bit, but they had some protection next to the trees.

Cloud pulled off his goggles as he stepped off the bike and nudged down the stand with his foot. "Hey, I have something for you," he said, digging in one of the compartments. He pulled out the sword he had confiscated from Denzel before they left home.

"You're letting me have it back?" Denzel asked.

"Just for the trip," Cloud warned as he handed it over. "There aren't any people around and…well, this is as good a chance as any for you to get some practical experience. I should have given it to you earlier, anyway. The monsters are going to get thicker the farther we get from civilization." He popped a couple pieces of materia from his own bracer and handed them to Denzel as well. "You can equip some of my materia, too. Sorry, I didn't think about bringing yours along."

Denzel grinned as he put the restore and ice materia into his bracer. "No fire?" he asked.

"I just have the one fire, and I'm just going to keep it in the top compartment in Fenrir because we'll be using it often when we camp. You should put this on, too." He pulled out a white cape, the only accessory he'd left in there from a previous trip, and tied it on Denzel. "It will protect you from small and toad effects. Those attacks get pretty common in the woods."

"Cool!" Denzel said. "I can't wait to run into some monsters!" His stomach protested loudly. "Well, ok, I can wait until we eat," he amended, sliding his sword into the sheath. "How long is it going to take?"

"About 5 minutes," Cloud said. "Think you can last that long?" He was digging through one of the bags stowed on the bike.

"Really? Don't we have to catch it?"

"Not this time." He pulled out some bread and cheese from the bag, along with their water canteen and some dried meat.

"Ah ha!" Denzel yelled, perking up. "I knew Tifa wouldn't send us with no food."

Cloud scoffed. "Yeah, well. Just a little. Not enough to get us through the week. And the meat is just what's left from this morning."

Denzel grabbed greedily at the food and shoved it in his mouth. "Ohhhh, man. I never realized how good bread tasted." He bit off a piece of the dried meat. "Even this stuff is good now."

"Hey now," Cloud protested mildly. "You really shouldn't be insulting the cook unless you want to starve."

Denzel grinned and ripped off another big chunk.

After he had satisfied the beast in his stomach, Denzel stretched out on the rocky ground. "Mmm. Ok, now I'm ready for bed."

Cloud was already digging in the bags again. "Are you kidding? The sun hasn't even set yet!"

Grudgingly, Denzel sat up. "Well what else are we gonna do?"

"We're going to set some traps so we have food for breakfast. Come on, I'll show you."

The wind was cold, so they both grabbed another layer of clothes before setting off into the woods. Cloud showed him how to make several different types of traps and explained how they worked. His fingers nimbly wrapped and stretched and tied like he had done it a thousand times before. He even let Denzel make a few.

"So how _did_ you learn all this stuff?" Denzel finally asked.

"Put that cheese right in the middle," Cloud instructed Denzel before responding. "Well, Nibelheim is just a little mountain village. We didn't have markets or stores like Midgar. There was a supply truck that came about once a month, but it was just some extra stuff we couldn't find locally, and Ma couldn't afford much of what they brought anyway. So, this is what we had to do to survive."

Denzel gaped at him. "You had to do this _every_ _day_?"

Cloud shrugged. "Not exactly. If I got enough to last us a while, I might spend a few days helping with canning or drying it. We had to stock up what we could during the summer because it got a lot harder when winter came. We never seemed to have quite enough to make it through the whole season, though. Part of the reason I was so scrawny."

He stood up and dusted off his hands. "Alright, let's leave these for tonight. We'll check them in the morning."

When they arrived back at the camp site, Cloud sent Denzel back into the woods to gather some firewood. "Take the lantern though. It will be dark soon. Fire materia is in the middle slot."

As Cloud set to work getting the tent up, Denzel grabbed the lantern and materia from their supplies. He palmed it and lit the wick, but the flame flickered violently in the cold wind. He shoved the materia in his pocket, just in case he needed to relight it.

He was learning how to carry the wood a little more efficiently. The problem was actually trying not to drop the wood he held while picking up more with the same arm. By dropping the sticks into a small pile instead of continuing to carry them as he gathered, he kept his arm free until he had a decent amount gathered. Then he scooped up the pile and carried them all back.

When he returned to the campground with his bundle of wood, he noted again that Cloud had already set up the tent and started a small fire. In his hands, he held the shirt Denzel had been wearing that day, which had slashes across both the front and back. He was sewing one of the slashes with tiny, even stitches. The thread was black, matching Cloud's ribbed shirt, which explained why he never noticed all the repairs that must be covering his clothes. Unfortunately, Denzel's shirt was a light brown. The black threads looked like a cancer stretching across his shirt.

Cloud stuck the end of the needle between his lips as he snapped the thread and tied off the end.

"How did you get so good at that?" Denzel asked. His voice was teasing, but he really was impressed by the precision of the thread around the ragged tear.

Cloud took the needle out of his mouth and weaved it through a hardened cloth that he pulled from his pack. "I'm a man of many talents, young one," he said cryptically.

Denzel dropped the wood next to him, and this time Cloud nodded with approval. Feeling pretty proud of himself, Denzel sat down by the fire, opposite Cloud.

"Did you know you can sew together skin if someone has an open wound and you don't have a way to heal them quickly?" Cloud asked conversationally. He tossed the repaired shirt over the fire to the teen.

"Ha!" Denzel snorted and caught the shirt, but Cloud wasn't laughing. "What, are you serious? You stab a wound a bunch of times with a needle and that makes it _better_?"

This time Cloud did laugh. "Well, no, the needle doesn't feel good at _all_. But the thread will pull together the two sides of the wound and eventually the body will heal itself. It works the same way as a cure spell, only much, much, _much_ slower.

Denzel made a face. "Why would you ever want to do that?"

"I don't!" Cloud declared. "That's why I learned how to use materia. But when I was a kid, no one in the village knew how to use it, and potions were really hard to come by. So we sewed up skin and used sticks to hold bones in place, and waited for our body to heal itself."

Denzel tried to imagine it as he shifted his position to get comfortable on the rocky ground. The materia in his pocket dug into his thigh, which was distinctly _less_ comfortable. He stood up to remove it and a thought struck him. "Hey Cloud? How did you start this fire?"

Cloud looked up at him. "We brought fire materia," he said calmly.

Denzel pulled the stone from his pocket. "You mean this?"

Cloud looked startled. "Oh. Uh.." he fumbled. "Why did you take that? I needed it." Anger seeped into his voice.

Denzel glared at him and crossed his arms. "Clearly you _didn't_. I had it with me in case I needed to relight the lantern. Now stop trying to change the subject. _How did you light the fire_?"

"I...umm…" Cloud's eyes skittered around wildly, trying to come up with a plausible explanation, but finally he sighed in defeat. "Like this." He held out his hands, palms up. Two tiny fireballs appeared, growing in size until he made his hands into fists, cutting off the flames.

Denzel gasped. "Whoa! You've _gotta_ teach me how to do that!"

Cloud rubbed his face wearily. "I can't. You remember that day I swallowed the materia?"

"Of course." _How could I forget?_

"Well, it's still inside of me and…I can use it."

* * *

 **Day 3**

The new day dawned bright and crisp. Denzel had been too excited to get much sleep the night before, thinking of all the possibilities. It was so cool! He'd felt horribly guilty over Cloud swallowing the materia, but it seemed like this was actually turning out to be good thing. It was a tremendous weight off his shoulders.

He had begged Cloud to show him everything he'd learned to do, but Cloud had said he was tired. He promised to show him another time, though. Now that Denzel thought about it, Cloud _did_ look pretty tired lately.

As he rolled up his sleeping bag and pulled on another layer against the cold air, Cloud poked his head into the tent. "Hey, you ready? Let's go check the traps."

Denzel grinned and followed him out. He was excited to see how the traps had worked. The first one they checked was one that Denzel had made. He could tell because it was a little sloppy, whereas Cloud's traps were very precisely laid out. He peered inside, disappointed to find that it looked exactly the same as the night before.

"Don't worry about it," Cloud said as they dismantled the trap. "That's why we did so many. If they all caught something, we would have way too much food."

They moved on to the next traps. By the time they reached the fourth, they had found their breakfast. Denzel was ecstatic. It was one of his traps, and it had worked exactly the way it was supposed to. The animal was a large one, much larger than the two of them could eat at once.

"What are we going to do with all this meat?" Denzel asked, bouncing excitedly.

"We're heading into the mountains today. It'll be cold up there. We'll dry some, and the rest we can take with us and it will freeze."

They went through the rest of their traps, finding one more with something small caught in it. It was cute, and Denzel couldn't help feeling a little guilty, but Cloud just shrugged. He didn't have much time to dwell on his guilt, though. As they walked back to the camp site, Cloud pointed out various plants and bushes along the way. He knew the names of all of them. He knew which ones they could eat, which ones tasted like marlboro vomit, and which ones would have them stopping every hour on the road.

"I don't get it," Denzel said, picking off one of the leaves. "Why would we have to stop?"

Cloud raised an eyebrow as he looked over at the boy. "Trust me, you don't want to find out."

When they got back to the camp, Cloud pulled a knife out of his boot and showed him how to skin and clean it. Then he handed the knife to the teen. Denzel was slow and imprecise, probably cutting off much more of the meat than he should have, but Cloud didn't seem to mind. He sat on a stump and leaned back against another tree, linking his hands behind his head for a pillow. He supervised Denzel's clumsy maneuvering and told him stories about growing up in the mountains.

By the time Denzel's fingers were too numb to hold the knife, he was laughing so hard that his eyes were watering. "Your mom actually spanked you with the cutting board right in the middle of town? With everybody watching? Gaia, that would be so embarrassing!"

"Mm," Cloud agreed. "Ma Strife was not a woman to be trifled with. Tiny, petite little woman, and all the men in town were terrified of her."

Denzel wiped at his streaming eyes with his sleeve. "Here, you want to finish this? It's going to take me all day." He handed the knife to Cloud, who shrugged. Denzel tucked his freezing fingers inside his sleeves. "What about your dad? Was he scared of her too?"

"I dunno. I never knew him," he said as he efficiently continued skinning.

Cloud didn't seem perturbed, but Denzel looked down at his feet. He knew what it was like to lose a father. It was an ache that had dulled over time, but never really left him. But what if he'd never had one at all? And what if he'd never found Cloud? Where would he have been now without him? _Who_ would he have been now?

Cloud glanced up at him. "What's up?"

"What?" Denzel blinked.

"You just got really quiet."

Denzel shook his head. "Oh. Just spaced out, I guess. Tell me more about your mom. Was she really tough on you?"

Cloud had finished skinning and began cutting the meat off the bone. "Sometimes. If I didn't do my chores or got in a fight with the other kids, I knew I was in for it. If I knew I'd really screwed up, I snuck up the mountain trail to this little hideout I'd made for myself. I stayed up there as long as I could, hoping she would forget about it or at least calm down a little bit. But eventually I would get too hungry and go home.

"She would just be calmly going about her chores until I walked in the door. It was like she had just tucked away all her anger in this little pocket while she was waiting. As soon as I got home, she pulled it out, and then I was in even deeper trouble for making her worry. Those are the days I _wished_ for the cutting board."

Denzel grinned. "Tough as leather, then?"

"Yeah," Cloud agreed. "But leather can be soft, too. At night, we would light the fire and curl up in our blankets. The whole house was just one big room, so we usually slept right in front of the hearth when the nights were cold. When the wind whistled through the gaps in the stone walls, it made this horrible moaning sound. I was so terrified of that sound when I was a kid. She would pull the blanket around both of us and wrap her arms around me, and tell me these stories about brave warriors and battling gods until I fell asleep." He smiled fondly. "Fenrir was always my favorite. I used to beg her to tell me that one all the time."

"What a surprise," Denzel said dryly.

"She got a lot of ridicule as a single mother, and I think in her heart she was afraid that I wouldn't turn out right without a dad to raise me, like I wouldn't be strong enough. I think that's why she was so tough on me. But she never expected me to run off and join the army so young."

Denzel felt the weight of the sadness behind his words. "You were…my age when you left home, weren't you?"

"Yeah." Cloud set down the knife and locked eyes with Denzel. "Don't be in too much of a hurry to grow up, alright? Just enjoy it while you can."

His eyes were intense, and Denzel had a strong urge to reassure him. "Yeah, I will, Cloud. I'm not going anywhere for a while."

Cloud studied his face for another minute, and then seemed to shake himself. "Come on. Let's eat our breakfast and hit the road. We should be able to deliver the package and get back to this same place by tonight."

* * *

The temperature was dropping quickly as the afternoon wore on, and Denzel was really getting cold. They were driving up a steep mountain path that was barely big enough for the bike, and ran precariously close to the ledge. Cloud had actually slowed down, which made Denzel more worried than anything.

"Hey, Cloud!" he yelled over the howling wind. "Can we stop somewhere and thaw out or something? Maybe start a fire? Warm up our toes?"

Cloud turned his head so Denzel could hear him over his shoulder. "Not right now," he yelled. "If we stop, we might not be able to get started again. We need to find someplace flat that's not coated in ice."

Denzel sighed and wiggled his numb fingers. He didn't have much hope of that happening anytime soon, but suddenly Cloud slammed on the brakes. The bike started skidding sideways on the slick ice. He shot out a stream of fire at the ground in the direction they were sliding, melting the ice and halting their momentum at the same time. They stopped mere inches from the edge.

"Get off!" Cloud yelled. They both jumped off onto the safety of the ledge and Cloud pulled the bike toward them, dropping it on its side and pulling out his sword at the same time. Denzel winced at the sound as the motorcycle crashed on the rocky ground. Cloud wouldn't be happy about that later, but at the moment they had a more pressing concern.

A giant, green, tentacled monster, previously hidden around the curve of the mountain, was blocking the path. Denzel covered his mouth and nose with his free hand as they backed up. "Oh my gods, that thing _smells_! What is it?"

Cloud made a face and split his sword into two. "Marlboro."

"Ugh! That thing is foul!"

"Yeah, and its bad breath will mess you up, so back up and let me—"

Cloud didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before the marlboro unleashed a nasty belch. He groaned as the stench washed over them. The ribbon on his arm tingled, and he quickly scrambled back to see what the damage to Denzel was. The boy was fast asleep on the path. That was a relief. Cloud charged the marlboro, but instead of attacking, he ducked and skidded past it. He leapt back onto his feet on the other side and slashed it across the back. The marlboro roared and turned to face him. He kept backing up, drawing it away from Denzel. As long as it didn't hit him, Denzel could stay asleep until Cloud could get rid of the thing and find a remedy.

Cloud slashed him a few more times, but he knew it would be much quicker to exploit its weakness, and the clock was ticking with Denzel still asleep. He cast a powerful water spell several times in succession and the giant plant-beast toppled forward, crashing to the ground. After stowing his sword in the harness, Cloud put one foot against the marlboro and shoved it toward the edge of the cliff. Its teeth scraped harshly against the frozen ground. The sound was almost as grating as the odor. Finally, he pushed it over the edge and watched it bounce all the way down the side of the mountain with a series of soft splats.

Able to breathe once again, he pulled a remedy from his supplies and returned to Denzel. He poured it on the boy's head and Denzel sat up with a jerk, then grabbed his head between both hands with a groan. "Augghh. What happened?"

Cloud gave him a moment to recover. "It's probably from the poison. Your head will feel better in a second. Just be glad you had that white cape on. Toad feels even worse."

Denzel blinked and gingerly pulled his hands away from his head. The pain was gone. He took Cloud's outstretched hand and got to his feet. "So how come it doesn't affect you?"

Cloud showed him the ribbon on his arm.

"What does that protect you from?" Denzel asked, poking at the ribbon.

"Everything."

Denzel's eyes widened. "Cool! Wanna trade?"

With an apologetic smile, Cloud shook his head. "If something incapacitates me, you'll be on your own. And if I get confused and hit you…"

"Oh. Right. Good call." Denzel's shoulders dropped.

"Sorry, Denz. I'd get one for you too if I could find one, but they're really rare. How about this? When we get back home, you can dig through all my accessories and see if there's something you like better."

They both made their way back to Fenrir. As predicted, Cloud grimaced as he picked up the motorcycle and examined the scratches on the paint. "Guess we'll have to wait until we get back to fix that." He sighed. "Well, we're stopped now, and if we head back down the path just a bit, we'll be on the lee side of the mountain. We can make a fire and quickly eat, but it's going to be cold either way."

He glanced at the steep slope that was their path ahead. If it hadn't already been icy, it definitely was now. The water that had splashed off of the marlboro from his spell had landed on the ground and was already freezing. "Any ideas how to get up to the top of that? The tires will just spin on the ice."

Denzel looked at him like he was incredibly thick. "Cloud…you can shoot fire from your hands. Just melt it."

"Oh yeah! Good thinking," Cloud laughed. "We'll try that after we take a break and eat."

They puttered Fenrir slowly down the trail until they reached a shallow indentation cut into the side of the mountain. At least it gave them some shelter from the biting wind. Cloud unpacked one of the bundles of wood he had brought with from the forest. This time he explained how and why he was arranging the wood before shooting a steady stream of fire from his hands.

Denzel basked in the welcome heat of the fire for a moment, stepping away reluctantly for just long enough to pull out a few more layers of clothes from his luggage. He pulled them on as Cloud unpacked the food. The meat was frozen as he'd said it would be, and it was now in one solid chunk.

"Great," Denzel sighed. "How long is it going to take to thaw that thing enough so we can even cut it?"

Cloud didn't respond, but pulled his knife out of his boot and flipped it open. He grasped the blade with one hand, concentrating intently.

"What are you—" Denzel started. "Ohhh," he said in awe as the blade glowed a hot orange-red.

Cloud used the knife to cut through the frozen meat, keeping two fingers on the top of the blade to keep it hot while he cut through it.

"That's so freaking cool!" Denzel exclaimed. "Can you cook the meat, too?"

"I don't know," Cloud said, grinning at the boy's enthusiasm. "I've never tried."

They were huddled in the little indentation in the cliff, and Cloud held the meat between his hands and focused. Denzel plopped down on the ground next to him to wait. It was taking a long time, and the cold ground was making his butt numb faster than the fire was warming him. He looked over at Cloud, noticing that he was not actually sitting on the ground, but squatting on the balls of his feet. Denzel copied his posture, immediately feeling warmer. It was an uncomfortable position though, and he wasn't keen on staying like that for long.

Five minutes later, he stood and stretched his legs. "Jeez, how can you stay like that for so long?"

Cloud didn't look away from the still-red meat. "Do some squats."

"What?" Denzel stared at him. "You mean like, right now?"

"Yeah," Cloud said. "It will warm you up."

So Denzel did squats. They did warm him up, but after a few minutes, his leg muscles burned and he let himself collapse onto the cold ground.

Glancing over at him, Cloud pulled off his outer coat and dropped it on the ground next to him. "Sit on that."

Gratefully, Denzel pulled the thick material over and slid it under his butt. Using the fire materia must have been really been making Cloud hot. His skin was a rosy pink, and beads of sweat were starting to appear on his forehead. Next to the fog of his breath, evidence of the freezing air, it was jarring.

Finally, the meat was nicely browned. Cloud cut it into two huge chunks and handed one to Denzel before dropping down next to him on the coat. "Hey, I think it actually cooks more evenly like this than over the fire." Cloud said, tearing into his chunk. "Great idea, Denz."

Denzel studied him worriedly. "Yeah, but I think we should just use the fire from now on. You look pretty worn out."

Cloud shrugged. "I'll be fine. Let's just eat and get going."

Denzel had an uneasy feeling, but he brushed it aside. He figured Cloud knew his own limitations.

He really should have listened to his instincts.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Cabin

**The Cabin**

It was mid-afternoon by the time they had plowed Fenrir through the deep snowbanks leading to the secluded cabin. It was slow going, but Cloud helped it along by melting a path in front of them. By the time they climbed off the bike, Denzel's legs felt frozen and they resisted orders from his brain.

Cloud tucked the package under his arm and pounded on the rough wooden door. There was no sign of life from inside. Denzel shifted between his feet in an attempt to restore life to them. Finally, the door creaked open slowly. An old man with a stooped back peered out from the darkness inside. He looked too fragile to be living out here on his own, but his voice was strong.

"Oh my, is that the package from Abe Jenkins?" His eyes lit up, taking years off of his craggy face. "I didn't think anyone would actually be crazy enough to deliver it all the way out here!"

Cloud snorted. "Just crazy enough. Sign here, please." He handed the old man the clipboard.

The old man took it and stepped back, opening the door wider. "What's your hurry? You've come all this way, you might as well have some coffee, thaw yourselves out a bit!"

Cloud glanced over at Denzel, who gave him a pleading look as he tried to move his numb fingers. He shrugged. "Ok. Thanks."

They crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them. The cabin was warm and felt glorious to Denzel. They were standing in the Great Room, which had a roaring fireplace pumping out heat. Worn but comfortable-looking furniture was arranged in a semi-circle around the big fireplace, and a bookcase with more books than he had seen in his entire life covered almost a full wall.

The two men had already walked through the opening leading into the kitchen, so Denzel reluctantly left the fireplace behind. The old man was digging through cupboards with surprising agility.

"I see you brought your kid along. Good idea to have a partner when you're way out in the boonies like this. Sit down, sit down." The old man waved distractedly at the scrubbed wooden table. "My name's Webster, but you can call me Web. What do you call yourselves?"

Cloud pulled out a sturdy wooden chair and sat at the table. "I'm Cloud, and this is Denzel."

Denzel watched the old man zipping around his little kitchen, starting a fresh pot of coffee.

"Do you live out here by yourself?" Cloud asked, looking around the tidy kitchen.

"Not exactly," Web answered with a gap-toothed grin. He put two fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. A few moments later, a mass of snow charged into the kitchen. The two guests stared. The snow pile suddenly shook violently, sending the snow flying everywhere and revealing a large, shaggy dog. "This is my Belinda," Web said fondly, ignoring the cold slush that now covered half of the kitchen and its occupants.

Denzel brushed off the wet globs from his face and glanced at Cloud. He was slouching in his chair and didn't even seem to notice the slush sliding down his face. Something was really off. "Hey, Cloud. Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Cloud sat up straight, but it appeared to take some effort.

Web was studying him now. "The boy has a point. You really don't look well. Why don't you two stay with me for the night?"

Cloud tried to protest. "No, we really need to get back—"

Web wasn't having it. "Don't be silly. You don't even look like you can make it back down the mountain, son. I have an extra bedroom that you boys can use. You can sleep someplace warm, get a hot meal, and tackle the mountain in the morning. I insist."

Cloud shrugged weakly. "Ok. Thanks."

Denzel took that as a sign that Cloud was feeling worse than he was letting on, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about staying a little longer in the warmth of the cabin.

* * *

Web fed them a hearty stew that was heavenly in comparison to the food they'd been eating on the road. With a contented belly, Denzel sprawled on one of the cushy chairs in front of the fireplace and looked around the cabin. The floors and walls were all made of wood, but they were well sealed to keep out the bitter winds. Wooden beams braced the ceilings, and a wooden ladder led up to a space under the eaves.

Denzel had brought in their things from Fenrir without even asking Cloud, because the blond really did look rough. Their swords leaned against the wall near the door. Web stood back and admired the gleaming blades while Cloud lounged in one of the overstuffed chairs.

"That's some mighty fine craftsmanship, Cloud. Those are no second-rate weapons. What do you do that you need such fancy swords? Surely those can't just be for delivering packages."

"Oh," Cloud said. "Well, I do run into quite a few monsters on some of my routes. But I used to be a…fighter."

Denzel perked up. "Cloud's the greatest swordsman ever! He keeps our whole town safe all by himself, and one time he defeated a huge summon monster and this crazy super soldier guy named Sephiroth who tried to destroy the Planet."

"Denzel," Cloud muttered, looking uncomfortable. He'd asked Denzel not to talk about their involvement in the events surrounding meteorfall because most people didn't know the half of what had happened anyway, but apparently the kid thought it was ok to talk about his _other_ heroics. Cloud would rather just be known as the delivery boy.

Web just smiled, humoring him. "Well, it sounds like at least you get some good use out of them. They must have cost a good chunk of gil."

"Oh, actually, Cloud made them himself," Denzel blurted.

Now Web really looked impressed. "Is that so? Sounds like you're a man of many talents, Cloud."

Cloud was looking distinctly awkward now. He shifted in his chair and changed the subject. "So what do you do out here by yourself all the time, Web?"

Web rolled with it and seated himself on one of the couches that surrounded the fireplace, leaning back and crossing an ankle over his knee. "Well, I'm a logger, so me and Linda spend a lot of time choppin' wood. Once every moon cycle, a man comes up from his shop at the base of the mountain and hauls it all back down." He chuckled. "He brings up all the supplies I need and gives me a little gil for the wood. I don't need much else."

They two men fell into comfortable small talk. Bored and getting sleepier by the second next to the blazing fire, Denzel climbed the ladder to the attic room Web had shown him earlier. His bag was already up there, and he pulled out his sketchpad and pencil. He flopped down on the mattress on the floor and lit the nearby lantern. The itch in his head was driving him crazy. There were so many images in his mind that he'd been unable to get out while they were camping. He flipped to a clean page and let them out.

* * *

Cloud pulled himself slowly up the wooden ladder. He wasn't used to the weariness that clung to his bones, not since his epic adventure with his friends 7 years earlier. The lantern was still on, providing a soft glow in the small room, but Denzel was sound asleep on the mattress on the floor. His face was smooshed against his sketch pad. Cloud gently lifted the teenager's head. A piece of paper lifted with it, stuck to Denzel's cheek. Cloud unstuck the paper and pulled out the pad.

He started to put the pad away, but the picture on top caught his eye. He couldn't help but admire the obvious skill with which it was drawn, but it was disturbingly gruesome. It was the old man, Web. He was lying on the ground outside, his blood staining the pristine snow around him, partially concealed by a lopsided wood pile. Belinda was leaping toward a large green shred with her teeth bared, valiantly trying to protect her master, even though it looked like it might have been too late already.

Cloud sat back and rubbed his eyes, squinting at the picture. _Why would Denzel draw something like this? Should I talk to him about it? It's a little disturbing, but maybe it's normal for someone his age. How am I supposed to know? Gaia, I wish I could talk to Tifa. She'd know what to do._

His eyes softened as he looked at the slumbering boy. He had such an innocent face, but he'd been through more in his 14 years than anyone should have to suffer in a lifetime. He'd seen death up close too many times, even stared it in the face himself. Outwardly, Denzel had handled it remarkably well, but that kind of experience left marks on a person's soul. So maybe he just imagined the death of everyone he met. Maybe he did that to protect himself before he lost another person he cared about. Cloud laughed wryly at himself, trying to psychoanalyze someone else. He couldn't even make sense of his own head.

He wondered if it would be an invasion of privacy to look through his sketches; the teenager never shared anything he'd drawn. He dismissed the flash of conscience. It wasn't like it was a diary or something.

The next most recent was a picture centered around Marlene. She had a pained look on her face, her back turned to a trio of girls that looked about her age. The girls were in front of a row of lockers, their heads together. Their faces were scornful, and one was whispering behind her hand. Cloud frowned and continued flipping.

He came across a picture of Jameson Keenan, arms crossed over his gut with a look of fury on his face. Cloud had to smile. Denzel had really nailed his expression. That was pretty much exactly the way Jameson had looked the night he had visited them at the bar.

He turned back more pages, seeing several pictures of people he didn't recognize; he guessed they were people from school. He saw other pictures of people he knew only from the bar, surprised that Denzel had captured them so well. Maybe he should pay more attention to how much time the boy was spending out there.

Cloud flipped another page and saw an impressive gathering of pictures of himself in numerous battles. It was like a collage of fights, a dozen small sketches facing all different directions, all on one page. It was strange to see it from another person's perspective. Cloud had absolute focus when he fought; he only saw his opponents, his allies, and his usable terrain. But in these pictures, he looked like some kind of warrior. Maybe that was how he looked in Denzel's mind, he mused with a grin. He continued flipping.

On the next picture, he froze. It was another sketch of himself, with red tinted irises and tongues of flame on his upraised hands. He had only told Denzel about his ability yesterday, and this picture was so far back in the pad.

Cloud forced himself to breathe. This picture could mean anything. He had always used fire materia. He couldn't hold it in his hands like that, and Denzel had seen him use it enough to know better, but maybe it was creative interpretation. There was always a logical explanation.

The next picture was a startlingly lifelike portrait of Sephiroth. Light reflected off the Mesamune, and long silver hair flowed behind him. There was unmistakable malice in his eyes. Cloud forced a laugh. It was amazing how that man's face still made his heart beat a little faster. When did he get so close to Denzel, though? He gritted his teeth, thinking of that man getting anywhere near his boy. _He's dead, Cloud. It's just a picture. Relax._

Thoroughly rattled now, he continued flipping back through more pictures. When he had almost reached the front of the pad, he found a picture that sent a surge of pain through his heart. His hands shook and he dropped it.

The pad hit the wooden floor with a loud smack. Denzel woke up with a jerk, but in Cloud's tunnel vision, there was only the picture.

It was a sketch of a man in a familiar uniform, one Cloud used to have himself. He was tall and muscular, with spiky black hair. He had his hands on his hips and a cocky smirk on his face, but there was true kindness behind his eyes. Every detail was there, from the diamond stud in his ear to the X-shaped scar on his jaw and the hilt of the Buster over his shoulder.

"Cloud?" Denzel's voice was scratchy with sleep.

Cloud's eyes snapped up to him. "Where did you see this picture?" he demanded roughly. He felt like his whole past had been laid bare to the world. Hastily bandaged wounds, all his shame and weaknesses, had been ripped open and exposed.

Denzel's eyes widened. "I…I don't remember. I just saw him somewhere."

"Don't lie to me, Denzel," Cloud demanded, stepping closer. "We only have one picture of him, and it was in a locked box in a locked drawer in my office. How did you get this? Were you digging through my things?"

Cloud's eyes were brighter than Denzel had ever seen, mako blue tinged with red, pulsing with light. Denzel scooted away on his mattress and Cloud followed him. The teen had never in his life been afraid of Cloud, but at that moment, he was terrified. His heart hammered and sweat broke out all over his body. He cowered against the wall in the menacing shadow and a soft whimper escaped.

Cloud blinked, and some of the brightness faded from his eyes. "What are you…I don't…" He stumbled back a few steps, horrified as understanding dawned on him. "Denz, I…" He shook his head. "I need some air."

He jumped down to the floor below without bothering with the ladder and strode out the back door. He kicked at the nearby wood pile, sending the top half of the snow-covered pyramid flying. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. He had never seen Denzel look so frightened, and the fact that the kid had been so scared of _him_ made Cloud sick to his stomach. What had even set him off? He always kept his emotions in check, his temper carefully controlled because he was well aware how easily he could hurt someone by accident.

He slumped against the wall of the cabin until he slid down to the ground. He put his elbows on his drawn-up knees and dug his hands into the blond spikes on his head. _That sketch…there was no way he could get so much detail from that grainy picture of him with Tifa and Sephiroth. Is it possible he found another picture somewhere else? Some old Shinra propaganda? No, it's doubtful. They were pretty thorough about trying to erase his existence after he disappeared from Nibelheim. As if anyone could ever forget Zack._

After brooding for several minutes, his butt started to protest the frozen ground. Reluctantly, he pushed himself to his feet. He needed to go apologize to Denzel. As he turned to head inside, the wood pile caught his eye. It was the same lopsided wood pile he had seen in the drawing of the old man, complete with the partial snow-covering. The outer layers of the pile were coated in white, but the logs that were exposed when he kicked off the top rows were bare of snow.

Cloud gingerly touched the dry logs on top. It didn't make any sense. His memory had to be playing tricks on him. He needed to talk to Denzel, and he had to get another look at that picture. He stomped the snow from his boots underneath the dry overhang and went back inside.

When he poked his head up into the room, Denzel was sitting at the head of the mattress with his knees drawn to his chest. He watched Cloud warily as he climbed the rest of the way up and sat down on the other mattress. Cloud focused on his boots and began loosening the tight laces. He kept his eyes away from the teen as he fumbled for words. "I didn't mean to…" he sighed and shoved his hands through his hair. "Denz, you know I would never try to hurt you. Right?"

Denzel shrugged and looked down. "Yeah, I know. But..." He rested his chin on his knees. "I dunno. You didn't look like yourself. Your eyes were really bright and they had this red glow and the way you were looking at me…" he gulped.

The guilt fought its way back up, and Cloud pushed it down. "What do you mean about my eyes being red?"

"I mean the blue looked red. I don't know how else to describe it."

Cloud looked around for the drawings, but the pad had disappeared while he'd been outside. "Denzel, where is your sketch pad?"

Denzel looked uneasy. "I put it away because it seemed to…upset you."

Cloud was careful to keep his voice level and his eyes down as he pulled off his boots and gloves. He hoped it would make him appear less threatening, because Gaia, the last thing he wanted was for Denzel to feel threatened by him. "Will you let me look at it if I promise to stay calm? I think there are some things we need to talk about."

"I guess so," Denzel said hesitantly as he pulled the pad from beneath his pillow. He handed it over and Cloud accepted it gently, careful not to seem too aggressive.

He flipped to the page of himself with the fire in his hands. He pointed to the red-tinted irises in the sketch. "Is this what they looked like?"

Denzel nodded.

It was something Cloud had never known to happen before. Was it a trick of a light? A strange reflection? His blue eyes were always red in pictures, so why not? There were always logical explanations. Right. He wasn't even convincing himself. "Have you seen them like that before?"

"Yeah," Denzel said slowly. "Once. When all those monsters got into Edge and you were fighting them."

Cloud looked back at the picture. "Is that when you drew this? After that day?"

Denzel looked down and fidgeted with his socks. He shook his head.

Cloud took a deep breath. He flipped to the very last picture in the pad. He ignored the gory details for the moment and studied the wood pile. It wasn't his imagination – it matched exactly the wood pile out back after he'd kicked it.

He held the pad out to Denzel. "Why did you draw this?"

"I—I don't know," Denzel mumbled, not taking the pad, only glancing at it before looking away. "I just saw it in my head and drew it."

Cloud set down the pad. "Denzel. Look at me."

Denzel slowly raised his eyes to Cloud's, light blue to intense blue. They were the familiar eyes of his hero – molten steel forged through an unknown pain. A rush of images and feelings flashed through his head – Fenrir, Seventh Heaven, warmth, laughter, safety. He felt himself relax. He knew this man. He trusted him.

Denzel licked his lips nervously. He wasn't sure if he was ready to share his secret, but it was time. "Ok. Here's the thing. I sometimes…see things. My head starts itching on the inside, and won't stop until I put it on paper. It's like the pictures just need to be emptied out of my brain, and then it's okay."

"Itching inside? What does that mean?"

Denzel tapped his forehead. "Like right here, it itches, but it doesn't help to scratch it. It's like the itch is under my skin, inside my brain."

A shadow of a memory flickered. A dark shadow with its center right where Denzel had tapped his head. It was the shadow of Geostigma.

Cloud decided to keep that observation to himself. "I see," he said evenly. "What do you think the pictures mean?"

Denzel's brows furrowed as he summoned the thoughts he'd spent countless nights chasing in circles. "I don't know, Cloud. Sometimes it shows me things before they happen. But there are a bunch of others that don't seem to mean anything."

"Do you think they might be things that were supposed to happen, but never did because something changed? Or maybe things that happened in the past? Or things that happened after you drew them but you just weren't there to see?"

Denzel shrugged. "Maybe."

They lapsed into silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Finally, Cloud spoke softly. "So I guess I owe you an apology for accusing you of digging through my things."

"I didn't, Cloud, I swear," Denzel said with wide eyes. "I saw him in my head."

Cloud smiled gently. "I believe you. And I'm sorry."

Denzel nodded, accepting his apology. "So…who is he?" he asked timidly. "The soldier in the picture."

Cloud pushed back the flood of emotions that threatened to come to the surface. "I'll tell you about him sometime, but not right now. Right now, we need to figure out how to handle this." He tapped his finger on the picture of the old man.

Denzel's eyes widened. "What do you mean, _handle it_?"

"I mean, how do we stop it from happening? You weren't going to just let Web die, were you?"

"But I don't…I mean, Cloud, sometimes they don't happen for months. Or they never happen at all. How are we supposed to prevent something with no idea if it's supposed to happen tomorrow or 10 years from now?"

"If this is going to happen, it will be before the next snowfall," Cloud said confidently. He picked up the picture and pointed at the wood pile. "There's no snow on here because there were other logs on top of them before. It won't look like this after the next time it snows. If nothing happens by then, I guess it's not going to happen."

Denzel looked impressed. He was a little excited, too. He'd never tried to _change_ any of the things he'd seen. They usually didn't have enough detail for him to narrow down the place and time.

"But now, we really need to get some sleep," Cloud said, stretching out on his mattress and pulling the threadbare blankets over his body.

Denzel laid awake for a long time after Cloud's breathing became deep and even. He'd been so afraid of being judged, or not being believed, that he'd never wanted to show his sketches to anyone. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or scared now that he was no longer alone with the problem. Why had Cloud reacted so violently to the picture of the other soldier?

* * *

 **Day 3**

When Denzel arose the next morning, sun filtered through the tiny attic window. He rolled over and was surprised to see Cloud, still fast asleep. He considered snuggling back into his toasty covers, but the most delicious smell wafted up through the opening in the floor.

He followed his nose down the ladder and into the kitchen, where Web stood hunched over the stove. Belinda was sprawled out on the floor next to her master, looking like she was more in the way than anything else. She raised her head and her tail thumped loudly on the floor when Denzel entered the room. Web looked over his shoulder.

"Well, good morning, Denzel!" He guffawed with laughter. "Nothing like the smell of food to bring a teenage boy running, eh?"

Denzel smiled. He couldn't deny that his appetite was often the great motivator behind his actions. "It smells really good, sir. Can I do anything to help?"

Web scratched his chin. "Now that you mention it, could you watch the stove for a few minutes? I need to fetch more logs for the fire." He set down his spatula and turned toward the back door.

"Yeah, I—" The sketch flashed through Denzel's head. "No! I mean—why don't we wait until Cloud gets up? He can get the wood for you. It's pretty heavy, right?"

The old man guffawed even louder as he continued toward the back door and picked up his boots. "Don't you worry about that, my boy. I manage just fine every other day of the year."

"I'll get it!" Denzel insisted frantically. "I mean, if you don't mind," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "I'd really like to. I need to get some air anyway."

The old man gave him a strange look, but set down his boots and shrugged. "Well, if you insist, lad."

Denzel nodded in relief. "Yeah. Just give me a second to get my shoes."

His shoes were still by the front door where he'd left them, right next to the two swords. After pulling on his shoes, he grabbed the harness with the mini fusion sword and slipped it on. If Web wondered why he needed a weapon, he didn't comment when Denzel walked through the kitchen.

The air outside was frigid. Denzel had forgotten how cold it was after less than a day inside the cozy cabin. At least he wouldn't be out there for long. He pulled his sleeves over his hands, ready to pick up the cold wood, when he heard the sound of scuffling and snorting behind him. He followed the sound back around another, larger wood pile. Two small green shreds, no taller than his knee, were wrestling around in the snow.

Denzel smiled. They were actually pretty cute. He could tell by their coloring that they were both female. He had planned to sneak away and leave them alone, but it was too late. The darker green shred spun around and slashed his ankle.

"Ow!" Denzel yelped, stumbling back. The animals followed him and he pulled out his mini fusion sword. He pressed the button on the guard and caught the second blade when it popped off.

He grinned as he held a weapon in each hand. When the lighter colored monster jumped at him, Denzel swung at it with the weapon in his left hand. He slashed it out of the air, but it hit the dull side of the blade. It went flying and smacked against one of the farther wood piles.

He focused on the darker shred. She had seen her sister go flying and was not quite as eager to throw herself at Denzel. She stalked forward slowly. Denzel narrowly dodged a claw from the left and blocked one from the right. He countered with a fast jab at her neck. Green goo splattered the snow as she fell on her side, dead.

The lighter green shred had picked herself up after her collision with the wood pile and was slithering her way back over to Denzel. Senses heightened by adrenaline, Denzel heard the faint creak of the door opening behind him. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder, hoping that it was Cloud, but at the same time hoping it was not.

It wasn't. It was the old man looking down a double-barrel shotgun. Denzel didn't have much experience around guns – they made him nervous, to be honest – and he didn't want to take his eyes off of the weapon, but just then the remaining shred leaped at him. He spun around and drew back his sword to strike. The gunshot was louder than Denzel expected, and it startled him mid-swing. He faltered, and while his strike didn't stop, it was slowed enough to miss the shred completely.

The beast looked startled as well. Already mid-leap, she couldn't stop her momentum any more than her opponent, but she was obviously thrown off. With a desperate-looking scrabble of her claws, one sharp nail scraped across Denzel's cheek as she flew right past him. Hitting the ground behind him, she quickly gained her feet and ran away from the cabin. A dribble of green followed her, but she would probably survive.

"Denzel!" Cloud pushed past the old man in the doorway, running out into the snow, sword in hand. He grabbed him by the shoulder, looking him over intently. "Are you ok?"

Denzel looked back at him calmly. "I'm fine." He looked down at the snow with his eyebrow raised. "Did you just run out here in your bare feet?"

Both men looked down at his feet against the blinding snow. "I guess I did." Cloud grinned sheepishly. "I just heard a gunshot and I panicked, but…looks like you had things under control." Denzel felt warmth spreading through his body. He had really done it! He had changed his vision and saved Web. Now they could go home.

"Come back inside, boys!" Web called out from the doorway. "I'm not trying to heat the entire mountain!"

Cloud muttered under his breath to Denzel as they both walked back to the cabin door. "Sounds just like Ma."

* * *

Breakfast was a little burned, but not bad. Web had left it unattended when he had heard the shrieking of the battling shreds outside. Cloud wasn't thrilled about the idea of Web shooting at a target so close to Denzel, but the old man waved away his concerns.

"Pish posh! I didn't shoot at him. I just shot it in the air. Most of the beasts 'round these parts know that sound by now. Just hearin' it's usually enough to clear them off the property. They don't venture near my cabin very often, but those were real young 'uns. They must not know any better yet."

They were sitting around the little table, enjoying their slightly burned sausages. Denzel had wiped the blood off of his cheek, but the scratches were minor enough that he wasn't willing to walk away from that delicious smell to tend to his wounds just yet.

"Did you sleep all right last night? You still look pretty tuckered." Web gestured to Cloud with his fork as he spoke.

For the first time that morning, Denzel looked closely at Cloud. He _did_ still look pretty rough, and the teen felt a flash of guilt that he hadn't noticed it earlier.

Cloud sat up straighter. "Yeah, it was fine. Maybe I'm coming down with something." He shrugged nonchalantly, but Denzel was even more concerned. Cloud was usually impervious to the illnesses that commonly plagued mere mortals.

But Web focused his attention back on Denzel. "That was some mighty stylish fighting you displayed out there, boy. Did your dad teach you?"

Denzel's brain stuttered. The first picture in his mind was of his real father, but of course he had been dead and gone for years, so Web couldn't have meant him. "Um… well…" He looked over at his companion. Cloud was awfully young to be his father, but the ashen tone of his skin and the bags he had never noticed beneath his eyes really did age his appearance.

Denzel shifted his eyes back to Web. "Uh, actually, Cloud taught me."

Web took it in stride and didn't pry any further into their relationship. "Well, he must be as legendary a swordfighter as you say, to pass on that kind of skill to you." The compliment must have slipped right past Cloud, because he didn't look uncomfortable for once. He looked like he was in a daze.

"Thank you, sir," Denzel said politely for both of them.

"I don't suppose you have a name for your sword?" Web asked, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Umm…well, I haven't decided for sure yet, but…I was thinking Skoll," Denzel said shyly.

"Ahh, Skoll!" The old man said. "Chaser of the sun, correct?"

"And son of Fenrir," Cloud added softly. He was listening after all. "Denz, I—"

Whatever he had been about to say was lost into a horrific grimace. Both of Cloud's arms wrapped around his torso as if they were holding in his insides, preventing them from escaping.

Denzel dropped to his knees in front of the chair. "Cloud? What's wrong? Cloud! Are you ok?"

Cloud's breathing was ragged, and the smell of smoke wafted into Denzel's nostrils. His eyes widened, recognizing the smell that had begun to permeate 7th Heaven so gradually that he hadn't even noticed. Denzel grasped his biceps, alarmed by the heat that almost burned his hands.

"Cloud! Say something!" He tried to hold back the tears. He wasn't a _baby;_ he shouldn't be so terrified to see Cloud like this. Logically, he knew that his hero wasn't _actually_ invincible, but he so rarely showed weakness or pain that Denzel knew it had to be bad to spark this kind of reaction. He ignored the heat of his skin and squeezed Cloud's arms harder, desperate to get some kind of recognition from the man.

Finally, slowly, the mop of blond hair rose. Mako blue eyes were hazy with pain. "I'm ok, Denzel. I'm fine."

" _Fine_?" Denzel exclaimed. "You are not fine! Your skin is burning hot and you didn't respond to me for…I dunno, minutes, at least!"

Cloud smiled weakly. "You're channeling Tifa."

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe you need someone to take care of you! Maybe you don't know when to quit and you have to be _ordered_ before you'll actually rest!" Denzel didn't know why he was so angry, but he had to smother the urge to shake Cloud until he rattled. He might have done just that if Web hadn't intervened at that moment.

At some point while Denzel was busy panicking, Web had gone outside and filled a large metal pot with snow. He set it down on the floor next to Denzel and began packing handfuls against the skin of Cloud's bare arms. It was melting almost as fast as he could apply it.

Denzel got the idea and unzipped Cloud's sweater, pulling it off over his arms to expose more skin for Web. It was like undressing a rag doll. He put a hand under Cloud's chin and another on the top of his pale hair and tilted his head back until it rested on the top of the chair's back rest. Glazed eyes tinted with red stared dully at the ceiling.

The incongruence of his behavior was disturbing. Cloud didn't ask what he was doing or try to take control of the situation for once; he just let the two men take care of him. Dry, wrinkled hands covered his chest and arms with cool bliss; soft, young hands patted relief onto his face. The chair held a puddle in which he now sat, soaking into his pants as it slid down from his chest. Water dripped down the sides of his face, into his ears, soaking his hair.

Finally, Cloud lifted his drenched head. His golden hair was plastered to his head with the weight of the water. He pushed his fingers back through the sodden mop, which released the excess water and sprang back into its usual spikes, albeit messier than usual. He blinked at Denzel and Web, then looked down at the floor dully. "I got your floor all wet."

Denzel let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Web guffawed with laughter. "Don't you worry none about that, son. Belinda does that at least 3 times a day." The mutt in question made her presence known by lapping loudly at the puddles on the floor. Web reached over and rubbed her head affectionately. "Thanks for the assist, Linda."

Shaking his head, Cloud used the chair to push himself to his feet. "Thank you for everything, Web. We should really get going now."

"Are you crazy?" Denzel sputtered. "Did you see yourself just now? What if that had happened while we were flying down the road at the speed of 3 times insanity?"

Cloud chuckled wearily. "3 times insanity? I don't think I've seen that one on the speedometer."

Denzel was not amused. "I'm serious, Cloud. I'm not getting back on that bike until you look at least half alive."

The smile slipped from Cloud's face and he looked stern. "We really shouldn't impose on Web any longer."

"Are you kidding?" Web interjected. "Do you have any idea how lonely it gets up here? No offense, Linda," he said, shooting a quick grin at the dog. "Havin' you both here is about the highlight of my year. You can stay as long as you like. Honestly, I'd feel like I killed ya myself if I let you walk out lookin' like you do."

Cloud rubbed his eyes. "Well…maybe one more day," he relented.

"At least," Denzel said firmly. "And you should really go back to bed. Come on." He grabbed Cloud's hand and pulled him along like a child to nap time. When they reached the bottom of the ladder, Denzel stepped back to let Cloud go up first, then followed closely behind him.

"What are you doing?" Cloud asked with a smirk as he plopped down on his mattress.

"Making sure you're doing what you're supposed to!"

Cloud chuckled as Denzel pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. "When did you get so grown up?" His face stretched in a wide yawn and he snuggled into his pillow.

Deep, even breathing told Denzel there was no need to answer. He sat on his own mattress and stared at the blond warrior. Although Cloud was trying to pretend that everything was fine, Denzel was really worried. He touched the spot on his own forehead. There was no itch, but maybe it could be used in a different way. Maybe if he just started drawing, he could force the ability to show him what he wanted to see.

Pulling out his sketchpad, he started with a broad outline of Cloud's figure. He sketched a determined look on Cloud's face and searched for that itch. Nothing. He filled in the details of his hair. Nothing. He put him into a fighting stance, placed a sword in his hand. Nothing. Moving to a clean section of the paper, he sketched out Fenrir and drew Cloud in her seat. Still nothing. Denzel was starting to lose hope.

Maybe he should try something familiar or mundane. Many of his drawings seemed to be just moments in time that were somewhat ambiguous in regard to time or circumstances. Maybe he was trying to be too specific. He ripped out the piece of paper and crumpled it into a ball.

Starting on a new sheet, he sketched a large area around the business square in Edge. As he was drawing Mr. Mio's store, he felt the urge to give it a crumbled corner. The bricks along the edge of the building were cracked. Various pieces of debris littered the ground in front of the store. Was this actually working, or was he just convincing himself that these images were subconscious?

Denzel moved on to the monument that decorated the center of the square. It had been made from pieces of scrap from every former sector of Midgar. When the city had been whole, each sector below the plate had a distinct look. Midgar drew peoples from all corners of the planet, making the city a diverse hodgepodge of culture. Even so, people of different races tended to congregate with their own, and the dominant races of each sector were strongly represented with their unique cultural flavors.

Above the plate was an entirely different story; every plate-dweller had something in common with everyone else, regardless of race. They all had money. Races were slightly less segregated, and the décor leaned more toward modern and flashy, less old-world pride. They had the luxury of art and technology. They liked shiny things. Above the plate they had the wide-open sky and the sun casting light into even the darkest corners, and they shuddered to think of the shadows and filth below them.

But in Edge, a conglomeration of the refugees from above and below plate, everyone started out with nothing. They had all lost their homes, their possessions, and far too many of their friends and family. For the first time, the people of the slums had an advantage. They were skilled in hard labor, accustomed to missing meals and working through injury and sickness. The formerly privileged folks suffered with their new standard of living and wrestled with their life's purpose. What good was an art curator in a settlement where most citizens slept in the shelter of fallen debris? What could a perfumier do in a place where bathing was hardly a priority and it was only tolerable to breathe through one's mouth? It was a time for rebuilding, for learning new skills and recognizing equality in people of all races and backgrounds.

The monument was a symbol of this homologizing, a celebration of similarities as well as differences. As reconstruction slowed and culture was reintroduced, the natural separation of the educated and the laborers became apparent, but in the center of the square was this lasting reminder that at one time, they had all leaned on each other; they had all been equals.

In Denzel's drawing, the monument reminded them only of the demolition of everything they had known. The object at the base of the statue was a large square from an iconic section of wall from Sector 1, but the object he drew was a jagged triangle. The rest of the monument was scattered around the square. The wing of an angel statue from Sector 3 was lodged in the wooden wall of Mr. Keenan's office. The head of the Honeybee from Wall Market was a pile of colored glass shards in the alley.

Denzel closed his eyes and held his pencil loosely, barely aware of what he was drawing. When it was finished, he picked it up and examined the most detailed sketch he had ever made. It was a scene of absolute catastrophe. None of the buildings around the square had escaped the massacre. The pieces of the shattered monument were only a small part of the debris littering the area. Whole sections of buildings were collapsed. The gouges in the walls had to have been made by a beast larger than Bahamut.

Some kind of substance covered the debris and buildings, blurring the texture, but he couldn't determine color from the pencil drawing and had no idea what it might be. The destruction reached to all four edges of the paper, which meant that the damage extended beyond the scope of the large square.

Most horrifying of all were the bodies. Arms and legs of all sizes stuck out from underneath the debris, and a headless torso hung over the edge of a roof. A well-loved doll had been speared through by a pole, a poignant representation of the death surrounding it.

Swallowing back his gorge, Denzel snapped the sketchbook closed. He had no way of knowing if it was real or a product of his imagination, or even if it would happen during his lifetime. What he _did_ know is that if Cloud saw it, he would want to get back to Edge immediately. In his current condition, Denzel couldn't allow that. He shoved the pad into his suitcase, burying it under his clothes.

* * *

 **Day 4**

Web had an extra axe. Although the old man insisted it wasn't necessary, Denzel was happy to help him chop some wood. It kept his mind busy—off of the sketch buried in his suitcase—and burned his restless energy. At least he could see how Web had stayed so strong and nimble; logging was hard work. He was also beginning to suspect that the constant biting wind on his skin made him look older than he really was.

The secret he was keeping from Cloud was eating away at Denzel. He hadn't even been able to call Tifa and be reassured that everything was still ok in Edge, because Cloud's phone didn't get a signal way out here. Web had just laughed when Denzel asked if he had a landline.

"Are you sure you've never done this before, son?" Web asked as Denzel hacked away at a limb bigger than himself. "I've never seen such a natural."

"Not exactly," Denzel grinned. "But I train with a sword almost every day, and the movements are pretty similar."

"Well in that case, I oughta be a heck of a sword fighter!" Web crowed.

The old man really did seem to be fascinated with the mechanics of fighting. When Denzel took a break to get a drink and warm up for a few minutes, he grabbed his sword and bracer from the cabin, still equipped with the materia he'd been using. He wanted to give Web a demonstration.

He headed back to the door and pulled it open. "Hey Web, I got—" He stopped in his tracks. A giant green shred towered over Web. The old man was slowly stepping backwards toward the stump where he'd left his gun, trying not to startle the beast. Carefully wrapping his hand around the barrels, he brought it forward and raised it at a snail's pace. A startling _bang_ spurred both Denzel and the shred into action.

Denzel pulled his sword from its sheath and lunged forward with a wild swing that grazed the shred, trying to distract the beast advancing on the old man. It didn't even break the tough skin, but it was enough to get its attention. He adjusted his stance, anticipating the next attack.

"I thought you said they hardly came on your property and were scared of gunshots!" Denzel called over the growling and snarling of the shred.

"Well, those rules don't apply when you kill one of her babies on your property!" Web yelled back.

With a flash of understanding, Denzel remembered the sketch. The beast in his picture had towered over the wood piles, much larger than the baby he had killed the day before. They had let their guard down, thinking they had prevented the attack. Now they were dealing with a grieving mother.

The shred charged at Denzel. He struck out with perfect form, slashing the shred across the chest. The shred snarled and recoiled this time, but the stiff skin didn't allow the cut to open very wide, letting out only a thin stream of green blood.

Another shot rang out, blowing a hole right through the shred's leg. She roared this time and turned toward her aggressor. She was slowed by the bullet, but she was still faster than the old man. He was hurriedly loading another shell, but his hands shook and he couldn't get it into place before a giant claw ripped through his chest.

Web flew backwards with a spray of blood across the snow while Denzel screamed. Deeming that the old man was no longer her biggest threat, the mama shred turned toward the teenager, but all he could see was the blood pumping out of Web's body like a geyser. He pushed back all his emotions, all the distractions of the battle like Tifa had taught him, and focused his cure on Web. The bleeding slowed dramatically and he kept casting, but he was being charged by the big green reptile and self-preservation instincts kicked in. He raised the sword over his head and charged it for 2 precious seconds before swinging it down.

The blade sliced into the shred's chest, and Denzel released the ice spell directly into it. He allowed himself a quick rush of pride when he realized that he'd delivered a perfect slash-materia combo attack, but he didn't have time to celebrate. The shred had stumbled and fallen backwards, but had clipped Denzel with the tips of her claws, starting slow bleeding from four little slices on his chest. Even with the perfect attack, he wouldn't last long against those deadly blades on her fingers.

 _Even an unstoppable offense is worthless if you never get a chance to use it._ Denzel scowled and searched his memory for a more useful bit of training. _This is a close-range enemy. If I get enough distance, I can use materia and stay safely out of his reach._

Denzel took a few quick steps backwards, raising his sword and casting ice as he backed away. The ice was hitting the shred, but she barely seemed to notice. As soon as he was at a safe distance, he turned his attention back to Web. The puddle of red surrounding him was huge now. He couldn't possibly still be alive with that much of his blood outside of his body. A pain in his chest threatened to overwhelm him, but Denzel bit down on his lip, hard. He had to keep his mind focused if he wanted to survive the battle himself. He charged his ice for only a fraction of a second before the mama shred was on him again.

He threw the spell at the beast, but it didn't slow her at all this time. He needed a new strategy. The button on the handle of Skoll caught his eye. _Yes! Dual wielding. Maybe I can keep her back far enough if I use two swords._

Denzel pushed the button, releasing one of the blades and catching it in his left hand. He swung both swords clumsily at the same time as she descended on him. The sword in his right hand didn't have enough power to break the skin, and he didn't grip the one in his left tightly enough. It slipped out of his grasp as it struck the tough skin, flying out of reach.

His mind was whirling. Nothing seemed to be very effective. He charged up ice again as he stumbled back from the shred, and tried another slash-materia combo, but his timing was off and the ice shot off into the branches, showering them both with snow from the tree. Denzel stumbled back, caught off guard by the whirlwind of snow, but mama shred wasn't even fazed. She lunged at Denzel, swatting at the sword while he was distracted. He lost his grip on the weapon, watching the last two pieces of Skoll go flying and earning deep gouges along the back of his hand and wrist.

All he could do was run. He was helpless. His only attack materia was slotted securely in the sword that was now out of reach. He was going to be killed by some stupid oversized lizard in the middle of a stupid frozen mountain.

He fought back against the wave of despair that threatened to overwhelm him. _Man up, Denzel. Don't you dare give up._ The voice he heard was the commanding tone of his trainer. The first blade he had lost was behind him, but he had learned his lesson about turning his back on his opponent. He ran backwards as fast as he could. The shred pulled back her right arm again and he reflexively tried to block the attack.

It might have worked better if he'd actually had a weapon in his hand.

He couldn't suppress the scream that escaped when her claws tore through his skin of his palms and forearms, or the tears that burned down his face when he tripped and fell.

The shred loomed over him and raised a claw, dripping with blood. _Is it my blood? Or Web's blood?_ Denzel curled into a ball in an instinctive effort to protect his head, although he knew in his mind that it was futile. It was over.

The shred screeched in triumph. Denzel had read that some animals let out a shrill victory call when their enemy had been defeated, the beastly equivalent of checkmate. Some disconnected part of his brain wondered if he should feel privileged; he was one of the few people who ever got to hear that call. It was too bad he only had moments to appreciate it. He braced himself for the pain.

It didn't come.

She shrieked again and this time it was followed by a wave of heat.

He peeked his head out of his arms. Cloud looked like an avenging angel with his giant sword blazing, sending almost constant shots of red from the materia glowing in his weapon. The shred was recoiling, backing away from him, and now Denzel recognized the shrieks as screams of pain.

The howling may as well have been his own. His hands and lower arms felt like ribbons of hanging flesh. All he could think about was the pain. All he could see was blood, and the glimmer of green shining from underneath the streaming blood.

 _Materia! I forgot about my restore materia!_ But his head was still a jumbled mess. It was impossible to focus, impossible to hear anything but the sounds of battle and pain.

 _'Do you really think your enemy will sit quietly and wait for you to calm your mind? Learn to quiet the noise in your head and **listen**.'_

He should have listened to Tifa. He should have worked harder at that lesson. Even Marlene had failed to focus when she was scared, and she was much better with restore materia. Marlene was the one who taught him how to hear the voices in the first place! She had told him to remember that night in Costa del Sol.

 _"Getting tired, buddy?"_

He heard it in his head as clearly as he had that day. Denzel focused on that voice, extracting the affection, the concern, the tenderness in his tone. Yes, he was certain all of that was wrapped up in those three words.

 _"Getting tired, buddy?"_

He heard the grains of sand sliding under Cloud's heel as he stretched out his leg. He felt the warm weight of Cloud's hand on his head, his fingers idly moving against his hair; the muffled cadence of his voice and the security it implied.

 _"Getting tired, buddy?"_

The battle was miles away. The lifestream was right there. He let the whispers flow around and through him, channeling it into the materia in his bracer. He rolled over and directed the stream at Web. Healing magic flowed from his fingers, but soon the stream was waning, getting thinner and slower until it was only a trickle. Encouraged by a wet-sounding cough from that direction, he redoubled his efforts, forcing the stream that was suddenly harder to move. The stream was pushing back, a slow-moving wave of pain going up his fingers, wrists, arms, shoulders—

 _"Denzel, stop! Stop doing that!"_

The words didn't register. He heard them, but he didn't know what they meant. He couldn't think about anything except Web and that huge crimson aura in the snow. He pushed harder and the pain pulsed through his head.

With a sudden ripping sensation, the stream was gone. A moment later, so was the pain in his hands and arms. He felt himself being laid back gently in the snow. All he could see were familiar boots walking away, but why were they walking on the ceiling?

A moment later, two pairs of boots were back in his field of vision, two sets of knees almost touching the ceiling below the boots. One of the pairs of boots was untied. They moved out of his vision, trailing the loose laces, and then the world spun.

Closing his eyes against the vertigo, he heard someone speaking, but he didn't know the language. Too tired to tell the person that he didn't speak his language, Denzel just shook his head. He felt himself falling backwards. He flailed his arms and legs, trying to catch himself, but it took too much energy, so he relaxed and just let himself fall.

Yskr iy rsdy, nuffy. Judy trlsc.

He stopped falling and felt something soft under his butt and behind his back.

Ftink yhid.

Something was pressed against his lips. He was too tired to protest when his mouth was pulled open and something bitter coated his tongue and trickled down his throat.

"Wha…huh?"

The first thing to come into focus was that familiar blue. Cloud blinked down at him. "Welcome back. How do you feel?"

"Uh. Like I haven't slept in days," Denzel said sluggishly. With a great deal of effort, he lifted his head and looked around. He was seated in one of the cushy armchairs in Web's Great Room, with waves of heat washing over him from the fireplace.

Denzel attempted to wet his lips, but his tongue didn't seem to have much wetness to spare. "Why do I feel like roadkill?"

"Overuse of materia," Cloud said. "Your head should be clearing up soon from the ether I gave you."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's getting better. What happened, though?"

"You kept trying to cure Web when your mind was too strained. I couldn't get you to stop. I had to tear off your bracer to break the stream. Sorry," he winced.

"Web…oh Gaia, is he…" Denzel couldn't bring himself to say the words.

Guffawed laughter drew his eyes to the wrinkled, stooped old man as he entered the room with a tray carrying three steaming cups of coffee. "Right as rain, thanks to you!"

The weight was lifted from Denzel's heart and he jumped up, only to be pushed back down by his shoulders when he wobbled and his vision faded to black. His world came back into focus as two strong, dry hands clasped onto one of his.

"You saved my life, son. I would have been getting picked apart by vultures right now if it weren't for you." A distant look came into his eyes as he muttered, "I guess ol' Abe repaid his debt after all."

"Abe Jenkins?" Denzel questioned. "That package he sent was to repay a debt?"

Web chuckled. "Naw. Debts aren't always owed or repaid in gil. What he sent me was much more valuable than that."

The old man disappeared into another room. Denzel gave Cloud a puzzled look and received a shrug in response. A moment later, Web returned with a framed photograph in his hands. His finger traced a gentle line along the front of the picture before turning it to show it to his guests.

It was a photograph of a sturdy-looking young brunet man with his arm around a stunningly beautiful redhead. She had her head thrown back, laughing at something, and the man gazed at her with open adoration. It was the kind of love that couldn't be faked, the kind of happiness that so few people found in another. The frame was a beautiful reflective silver. The picture was crisp, clear, and bright, aged only by the outdated hairstyle and clothing. Denzel squinted at the young man in the picture, finally recognizing the vibrant, laughing eyes lurking within Web's muddy browns.

"It's been 20 years since I lost my Coral," he said with a cracking voice, hugging the frame to his chest. "I carried this picture with me everywhere. It was so creased and faded, I could hardly even make out her face anymore. Ol' Abe saw it and told me he could make it look like new again." He shook his head slowly as he studied the picture again. "It wasn't true, though. Even when it was new, it didn't look this good. I can almost hear her laugh in my head when I look at this."

"So…what is it a repayment for?" Denzel asked, still not sure what any of this had to do with their adventure in the backyard.

Web blinked rapidly, pulling himself back to the present. His voice was filled with good-humored scorn. "Oh, that old codger went and got himself lost on my mountain. Nearly frozen stiff when I found him. I loaded him onto my wood sled and Linda helped me haul him back here." From her place on the hearth, the dog thumped her tail on the floor at the mention of her name. "He said he could never repay me for saving his life, but then he sent you," he said, his gap-toothed grin splitting his face. "So now I guess I owe him for the picture."

Denzel smiled back weakly, too exhausted to do much more. His eyes drifted to the fire, listening to the comforting pop and crackle of the burning wood.

He must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing he knew, Cloud was sitting in the chair next to him with Skoll leaning against the wall. He didn't even know he had gone to retrieve it. Denzel leaned forward and picked up his assembled sword. His fingers traced over the buttons on the guard sadly. "I don't think I'm cut out for dual wielding, Cloud."

"Well of course not," Cloud said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence," Denzel said dryly.

"No, I mean, you're not ready yet. I made you that sword so you would have four different styles to use – the three individual blades and the fully assembled sword. Each style works better in a different combat situation." Reading the teen's dejected look, Cloud softened. "I guess it's my fault for not explaining that. I didn't expect you to try dual wielding before you were trained in it. It takes a lot of coordination and strengthening on your non-dominant side. If you really want to learn it, I can add it to your training."

Denzel shrugged listlessly. "Maybe I'm not cut out for fighting at all."

Cloud studied the teen, weighing his words. "If you don't want to do it anymore, that's ok," he said slowly. "But this seems kind of sudden. You've put two years into training already. You're much better than I was at your age." He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. "Denzel, where is this coming from?"

"I guess I just thought I could handle myself better than I did. Without you, I mean. But I was just useless. I used my sword and I tried materia, but nothing was hurting it."

"You used ice materia," Cloud said flatly.

"Well, yeah. And my magic is so weak it hardly even noticed I was doing anything."

"Ahh," Cloud mused, leaning back in his chair. "You think it's because your casting was too weak?"

"It isn't?"

"Not at all. You just used the wrong element."

Denzel rubbed at his face and groaned. Time for another lesson, and he was really not in the mood.

"You remember when I taught you about elemental opposites?" Cloud pressed onward. At Denzel's reluctant nod, he continued. "Well, the beasts who live in this kind of climate generally have ice as their natural element, and a weakness to the opposite element. You would've been fine if you'd had fire materia equipped. Sometimes it's more about strategy than ability." He quirked a smile at him.

Denzel grunted in frustration. "I'm never gonna learn all this."

"Sure you will," Cloud said. "Over time. Here." He walked over to where he had left First Tsurugi by the front door and popped the fire materia from the blade. He tossed it to Denzel. "Keep that for the rest of the trip. We both know I don't need it," he said with a wink.

* * *

One more hot meal later, Denzel and Cloud packed their belongings and bundled up for the cold. Web sent several days' worth of home-cooked meals with them, insisting that he had more than he could eat in a lifetime and Belinda didn't appreciate his cooking as much as they did. Truthfully, they didn't argue too strenuously.

Web and his dog accompanied them out the front door where Fenrir was waiting patiently. They wore equally forlorn looks as their visitors said goodbye.

Denzel felt a little sad, knowing that he'd likely never see the kindly old man again. At least he would be alive to rescue unprepared hikers who stumbled upon his mountain for a little while longer.

"Hey Web," he called from the back of Fenrir before they took off. "How far do we have to go before we get a cell signal?"

"Oh, probably not until you reach the bottom of the mountain," he said, scratching Belinda's head. "Why?"

"I just miss my family," Denzel said with a shrug. But he couldn't meet the old man's eyes as he said it. The sketch pad in his backpack weighed a ton.


	6. Chapter 6 - Out of the Woods

Author's note: After the last chapter was posted, my daughter (who actually is an artist, unlike me) explained that a sketch book actually _is_ a private thing like a diary, and it's bad form to look through someone's sketches, even if they show you one of their drawings. She likened it to when you show someone a picture on your phone, and they then scroll through the rest of your camera roll. Duly noted. Shame on you, Cloud! (But cut him some slack – parenting is a perpetual learning experience!)

* * *

 **Chapter 6 – Out of the Woods**

The road to the bottom of the mountain was as cold and treacherous as Denzel remembered. They went even slower on the way down, as the falling snow obscured the narrow path and camouflaged the edge of the cliff. The pace must have been excruciating for Cloud, who lived life on the razor edge of light speed, but it would have been too easy for Denzel to get hurt.

Unfortunately, the creatures of the mountain had more evolutionary advantages on the ice than Fenrir's tires, and a couple of shreds, looking eerily identical to the mother that Denzel had battled behind Web's cabin, were following the bike. They were gaining ground and would need to be dealt with, and Denzel had no intention of missing his shot at redemption.

He hooked his left arm through the back of Cloud's empty harness to brace himself as he twisted around in the seat. "I got this," Denzel yelled over the howling wind.

Cloud glanced over his shoulder to see the shreds closing in on the bike as he maneuvered it down the slippery trail. "All yours," he confirmed, turning his attention back to the road and speeding up as much as he dared.

Denzel held Skoll over his head, listening for the voices in the lifestream. He heard the whispers as clearly as ever in his mind, the external sounds of the howling wind and the powerful engine fading to a low hum. He focused the stream on the fire materia, charged it up through his sword, and swung it down.

The red wave shot out from the end of the sword, hitting one of the shreds squarely in the chest. It stumbled and fell back a few steps, emitting a horrible shriek that was music to Denzel's ears. After only a few seconds, the lizard shook itself, and then growled and resumed the chase.

The other shred was getting uncomfortably close to the rear tire. It seemed honed in on the heat and smell of the living creatures on the bike, paying no attention to the vulnerable tire that would have ended their chase, but its claws were long and sharp. Even an accidental brush would have been catastrophic, and the rubber was between the monster and its target.

Wary of the deadly blades slicing through the air so close to the tire, Denzel only charged the spell for a few seconds before releasing it this time. The red wave smacked against the torso of the second shred, but he snarled and slowed less than the first. By this time, the first had already recovered, and was starting to close in on the bike again. Denzel sent out more and more fire, alternating shots between the shreds, but each one had less time to charge and was weaker than the one before.

Denzel started to panic. This was his fight! He didn't want to give in and ask Cloud for help, but he was barely holding off the two beasts. They weren't getting any closer, but he was burning through magic points quickly. Cloud had helped him figure out his capacity one day during training, and it was pitifully low. He had no idea how much more the monsters could take.

Suddenly, the closer shred made a leap for the bike. Denzel let out a startled yelp and lashed out with Skoll, knocking it back, narrowly missing the tire with his sword. The lizard landed on its face, skidding across the ice and triggering another memory.

 _Always be aware of your terrain. Use it to your advantage. If you don't, your opponent will use it against you._

With a burst of courage, Denzel stood up on the seat, his left arm still securely looped in Tsurugi's harness, though now up at Cloud's shoulders. Cloud looked back at him with alarm. "Denzel! What are you doing?"

"I told you, Cloud, I got this. Just drive!"

Cloud was looking uncharacteristically nervous, but he did as Denzel requested.

The shred nearest the mountain wall was closer, a few steps ahead of its friend. Denzel glanced at the trail ahead and charged his fire materia, visualizing his attack. Leaning forward as far as he could reach, keeping his knees slightly bent for stability, Denzel watched the shred close in. He became more and more tense as the beasts drew closer. The nearer lizard leapt into the air, arm drawn back to slice through tender flesh. _Now!_

Denzel surged forward and slashed, driving Skoll into the beast's chest and releasing the fire right in the center. The force of the explosion in its chest threw the shred backwards into its friend, and threw Denzel into Cloud's back. Cloud reached behind him and forced Denzel down onto the seat, stabilizing him. The shreds skidded across the ice and tumbled over the edge of the cliff together.

The momentary fear of falling off the bike wasn't enough to drown out Denzel's euphoria as he slid his sword back into its sheath and wrapped his arms securely around Cloud's waist once again. "Waahoohoohoo! I did it, Cloud! Did you see that? I did it!"

Cloud leaned into the next turn and grunted. "Yeah. Great job, Denz. Now don't ever do that again." He didn't look back. He didn't want the kid to see the smile on his face.

* * *

Night had fallen by the time they reached the forest where they had spent their second night of the trip. The original plan had been to camp there on the way back after delivering the package, although they had intended to be there three days earlier.

As soon as the tires stopped moving, Denzel was on his feet. "Cloud, can I call Tifa?"

Cloud looked over at him. "Uh, sure, but let's get camp set up first."

"Please, can I call her first?" Denzel begged. "I just need to talk to her for a minute, and then I'll help set up, I promise."

Cloud slipped off his goggles and squinted at Denzel. "Why are you so excited to talk to Tifa all of the sudden?"

"I…well, it's personal," he said, looking away evasively.

Cloud shrugged. He supposed it was ok for Denzel and Tifa to keep some things between themselves. "All right." He tossed the phone to Denzel. "Let me talk to her when you're done."

He started unpacking supplies from Fenrir while Denzel dialed. He set up the tent, laid out the sleeping bags, and carried their luggage inside their canvas haven. He pulled out the soft-sided cooler that Web had sent with all of his pre-cooked meals, placing it next to the intended fire pit. Returning to the bike, he released a bungee cord to pull out a bundle of wood, and then re-secured it around the remaining logs. Web had sent them off with more wood than they needed for the rest of the trip, so there was no point collecting more.

"Cloud, she wants to talk to you."

Cloud looked over at Denzel, who was holding out the phone. He took the phone and piled the wood in Denzel's arms. "Want to set up the fire? Do you remember how I showed you to stack the wood?"

"Yeah," Denzel said enthusiastically. He seemed much more confident after his redeeming defeat of the shreds.

"Hey, Teef," Cloud said into the phone.

"Cloud." Tifa's voice was clipped. "Please tell me Denzel was exaggerating."

Cloud winced. He should have known Denzel would be excited to tell Tifa about his victorious battle on the mountain trail. As much as he tended to worry about Denzel when he was fighting, Tifa was even more protective.

"Um…probably…I wasn't listening to what he said," Cloud hedged.

"He said he was standing on the back of Fenrir fighting monsters while you were driving down a narrow mountain trail with no guard rail."

Cloud grimaced. Yeah, that sounded bad. He tried to do some damage control. "Tifa, I'm sure what you're picturing is much worse than it actually was. I was watching him the whole time," he defended. "I was ready to step in anytime if he couldn't handle it."

"Really? Because I would hope you were watching the _road_ when you're driving on an icy mountain trail."

Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. He really wished he didn't suck so badly at explaining himself. "Teef, don't you remember what it was like when you were a young and capable fighter, and everyone underestimated you and tried to protect you from everything?"

"Yes, but I—"

"You _still_ get mad when people suggest that you can't handle yourself."

"That's not the same, Cloud!"

"Yes it is, Tifa," he insisted calmly. "You were 15 when you brought a group of soldiers up a mountain trail to the reactor. You were furious when we didn't let you go inside."

"Exactly," Tifa said, exasperated. "I was young and foolish and too confident for my own good. Look what happened when I actually _did_ go inside. I nearly died that day!"

Cloud sighed. That was probably a bad example. "Ok, look. I know you want to protect the kids forever. But we have to give them a little bit of room to make mistakes and learn from it. Denzel is strong and capable, but he needs real experience."

"But he could—"

"I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to keep him safe. Please, Tifa. Can you just trust my judgement on this?"

Tifa was quiet for a moment. "All right," she said softly. "I trust you, Cloud."

He let out a silent sigh of relief. He so rarely won an argument with Tifa. He really had no idea how he had managed that little speech, but he wasn't about to question it.

"How are things with Jameson?" he asked quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Denzel was still occupied. "Is he going to leave Denzel alone?"

"I—I think so. He might be trying a little harder to get at you, but—"

"That's fine," Cloud said dismissively. "I can handle him."

"Ok," Tifa said softly. "Denzel said you'd be home in a few days, right?"

"Yeah. We got stuck at the cabin a bit longer than we expected. Denzel has…well, I'll tell you about it when we get home."

"Is he—" Tifa started sharply.

"He's fine, Tifa. We'll see you soon, ok?"

"Ok," she said quietly. Then she added, "I love you."

"I know," he replied with a smirk.

"Cloooouuuud."

He laughed softly. It was a running joke between them. She knew he had a hard time expressing his feelings, and he had never forgotten her words beneath the Highwind that night at the Northern Cave. _Words aren't the only way to tell someone how you feel about them._ He tried to make sure she wouldn't forget how much better he was at those other ways.

"Me too, Teef," he said softly. "Bye."

Cloud hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute before sliding it into his pocket. The brief mention of the reactor had started a churning in his stomach. Memories nagged him, knocking at the door of his conscious mind. He looked over at Denzel, who had stacked the larger logs beautifully and was now sitting back and staring at it, looking puzzled.

Cloud walked over and crouched down next to him on the ground. "You need to have the kindling pieces right underneath the longer-burning logs," he said quietly, adding the shavings.

Denzel nodded, looking satisfied with the result. He looked up at Cloud. "Is everything ok with Tifa?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Cloud sent a stream of fire from his fingertips into the artfully stacked wood, eyes glued to the flames licking along the thick branches.

Denzel stood and began pulling containers from the cooler, dumping them into the little tin pans they had brought along for cooking. He returned to the fire with two of the pans, where Cloud was still staring blankly into the fire.

"Hey," Denzel nudged him. "Everything ok?"

Cloud blinked and pulled his eyes away from the mesmerizing movement of the flames. "Huh?" His eyes fell on the pans in Denzel's hands. "Oh, the grate. Sorry." He retrieved the grill tray, unfolding the legs and securing it over the precisely constructed fire. Denzel set the pans on top of the grill and left to find some logs or boulders that would be more comfortable seating than the ground.

Once they were settled with their plates of reheated food, they ate in companionable silence in the flickering light of the fire. For several minutes, the sounds of the forest settling in for the night were broken only by plastic silverware scraping against plates.

With a satisfied sigh, Denzel set aside his empty plate and leaned against a large boulder that Cloud had moved near the fire for him, stretching out his legs. His eyes traced along the silhouette of mountains against the darkening sky. Cloud knew that Denzel had rarely been far from the city limits, so it must have still been strange to experience the night sky unspoiled by ambient light, the sound of the wind dancing through the leaves, and the regular nighttime sounds that were never heard over the constants of traffic and life in the city.

To Cloud, these sounds were home. _But Nibelheim isn't home anymore_. The dark memories threatened to come to the surface again. He looked at Denzel across the fire: no longer a boy, but not yet a man. He felt like he had come to know Denzel much better over this trip, but how much had Denzel learned about Cloud? Denzel still knew only the sanitized, story-book version of Cloud, where there was a bad man who tried to destroy the Planet, and the good guys who had triumphed over evil.

Studying the teenager that the innocent, frightened little boy had become, Cloud knew that he couldn't protect Denzel from the truth forever. He deserved to know who Cloud really was. Before he could talk himself out of it, Cloud broke the silence. "I never got mako shots. But that doesn't mean I was never exposed to mako."

Denzel looked startled to hear him speak. He probably hadn't expected Cloud to bring up the topic on his own after the way he had reacted to his accusations on the first night. "Cloud," Denzel said uncertainly, "it's ok. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No. It's time. I just…I have to figure out where to start." Cloud gathered his thoughts and began his story. "You already know that I left home when I was 14. I wanted to join Shinra's SOLDIER program. I wanted to be just like Sephiroth."

Denzel's eyes widened. He had only heard the name 'Sephiroth' in the context of the villain who tried to destroy the planet. The fact that Sephiroth had once been a normal man with a job and goals was something that Cloud had never been anxious to expose to Denzel, much less admit that he had ever admired him. He was a two-dimensional bad guy, and that's all there was to it. Except it wasn't. Cloud struggled to explain.

"Sephiroth was the general of Shinra's army, the original SOLDIER. I idolized him for years." He let that sink in while his memory pulled forth the long-neglected memory of a little blond boy aching to escape the confines of his small town. "It's hard to explain the way I thought of him. He was like a character from a comic book, inhumanly strong and fast and brave, but still humane and compassionate." Cloud laughed dryly. "At least, that's what the company promoters made him out to be."

In reality, the general couldn't carry on a casual conversation if his life depended on it. He could negotiate the terms of an enemy's surrender in his sleep, but when it came to normal human interaction, he had no idea how to talk or act.

Even in his own mind, Cloud didn't see this Sephiroth as the same bitter, destructive man he'd fought in recent years. This early Sephiroth was socially awkward for sure, but not cruel. The two images were impossible to reconcile. "Everything that happened later – it wasn't really his fault," Cloud said thoughtfully.

Denzel looked bewildered. "What do you mean? How could it not be his fault? He wasn't _ordered_ to do all the stuff he did, was he?"

"No, but…well, you know all SOLDIERs are genetically modified with Jenova cells, right?" Cloud tried to explain. "Well, usually it was something they worked for, something they chose for themselves. But with Sephiroth…they put these cells in Sephiroth before he was even born. They raised him like he was a science project."

Cloud lowered his head thoughtfully, trying to sort through the disjointed emotions in his mind. There was disgust for the company who treated a child like an object; sorrow for the child himself who never knew love; awe for the man who, even after everything he had done to them, Cloud still admired; and the sharp sting of betrayal from someone he had trusted.

He lifted his eyes to the fire. "He never had a chance to be anything but what they made him," he said softly.

"But that doesn't excuse what he did!" Denzel interjected.

Lost in his own revelations, Cloud was surprised by Denzel's outburst. He studied the boy across the fire, beginning to doubt his conviction that Denzel was old enough for this. "Denzel, everything isn't always black and white. I'm not sure if… if you're ready to hear the truth."

Denzel's soft blue eyes flared in anger. "I'm not a kid anymore, Cloud!"

"No," Cloud said, more to himself than anything. "No, you're right. It's me. I don't think _I'm_ ready for you to hear the truth."

The anger in Denzel's eyes faded, replaced with confusion. "What? What do you mean?"

Cloud shook his head. He was living a lie – a lie of omission, told with good intentions, but a lie nonetheless. Denzel deserved the truth.

"Never mind, Denz. I told you I would tell you the whole story, and I will." Cloud set his jaw and continued. "Anyway, I went to join SOLDIER and meet my hero. But I uh…" Cloud rubbed the back of his neck. After all these years, all the things he'd overcome, he still felt the sting of humiliation. "I failed the entrance exam to SOLDIER."

He sighed heavily and looked up. "So I joined the infantry instead. Sometimes we were sent as backup for missions led by SOLDIERs. That's where I met Zack." The first real ghost of a smile surfaced on Cloud's face. "At first I was a little intimidated by him. Zack was everything I wanted to be. He was the youngest first class SOLDIER ever. But once I got to know him, it was impossible not to like him."

He focused on Denzel over the fire. "That picture you drew…that was Zack. He was my best friend. The big brother I never had. He taught me how to fight. He taught me about the city. And he taught me that I shouldn't take life so seriously." A barrage of memories swept over Cloud and he closed his eyes, watching them like a film strip.

 _Flash! Sitting on the couch in Zack's dorm, laughing at his imitation of President Shinra's strutting walk and nasally voice_

 _Flash! Zack standing over him with his hand out to help him up from the training room floor, patiently explaining where he'd left an opening and how to fix it_

 _Flash! The indulgent frown on Angeal's face when he walked into the kitchen to find Zack and Cloud covered in food and wrestling on the floor, changed to shock when Zack hurled a handful of whipped cream to smack him in the face_

 _Flash! Lying on the fake grass of the courtyard next to Zack, staring up at the sky and dreaming about their future, which always included the two of them in first class_

 _Flash! Zack screaming his name when Cloud was dragged away in restraints…._

Cloud gasped and opened his eyes, abruptly cutting off the stream of memories. That was why he didn't like to talk about Zack. The good memories never came without a price, and that price was too steep for him. The brief comfort he'd felt remembering Zack was tainted with the bitterness and fear of the worst days of his life, and he struggled to slow down his racing heart.

"Umm…Cloud? Are you ok?"

Cloud blinked rapidly and focused on the teenager across the fire. "Yeah. I just…sorry. I got lost in memories for a minute."

Denzel nodded, waiting patiently for Cloud to continue.

Cloud rubbed his eyes and tried to remember where he was going with the story. "So anyway, we were assigned this mission to investigate the Nibelheim reactor – led by General Sephiroth, First Class Zackary Fair, and two infantry." He remembered how excited Zack had been when he told him about it. Zack had convinced the director to assign Cloud as one of the infantry because he was familiar with the area and the locals, who tended to be less than welcoming of Shinra personnel.

"While we were there investigating the reactor, Sephiroth learned some things about his past – about how he had been made. He thought of himself as a monster and he just…went crazy." Cloud's face darkened. "He killed Tifa's father. He burned down Nibelheim and everyone in it. My mom was –" His breath caught as the echoes of screams – anguished, helpless, terrified – rang through his memory.

He pushed the pain out of the way with anger. "Tifa tried to confront him and he tossed her aside like she was nothing. I didn't think she would survive, but…" Cloud shook his head with a faint smile. "Well, back then I didn't realize how tough she is. Zack and I tried to stop him, too…he was completely insane and stronger than anyone could imagine."

His fingers unconsciously traced over the large scar on his torso. "We managed to stop him, but we were both badly wounded. And I thought—" Cloud laughed bitterly. "I thought, at least we would die heroes. Zack had always said we would be heroes someday. And we had stopped General Sephiroth from tearing apart Shinra…from tearing apart the whole Planet. Why wouldn't we be?"

Cloud gritted his teeth and his eyes narrowed. "Shinra came. We thought we were saved. We thought that instead of _dying_ as heroes, we'd be celebrated while we were still alive. I was pretty delirious and I don't remember everything that happened, but I wasn't worried when they showed up, you know?" The jumble of impressions in his memory made little sense to him, even knowing what he knew now.

"The next thing I remember, I woke up on a table being examined by a man in a white coat, in more pain than I ever thought possible. He was taking notes on his clipboard and muttering like a madman, but it was ok. I figured they would give me something for the pain after he was done with the examination."

"Did they give you mako instead of painkillers?" Denzel asked, wide-eyed.

Cloud laughed humorlessly. "Not exactly. See, we thought they would be happy that we had stopped Sephiroth. We were only really thinking of the crazy person he became at the end. But it was Dr. Hojo who found us. He wasn't a medical doctor; he was a scientist – the head scientist of Shinra. He was willing to do the kind of twisted experiments that Shinra had no problems funding. Dr. Hojo had poured almost 30 years into making Sephiroth the perfect soldier. As far as he was concerned, we didn't stop a madman; we destroyed his life's work."

He hesitated then. Cloud didn't want to remember the next part. He put his head down and closed his eyes, calling on a skill he had developed over four long years of Hell. He pushed back all of his emotions, forcing them into a deep, dark well in his soul. He secured the lid and lifted his head, focusing on Denzel's blue eyes. The memories were reduced to facts, read from a report with the same detachment as the soulless lab techs Hojo had hired. His eyes were as flat as his voice as he recounted the story.

"He injected us with modified versions of the Jenova cells that he called S-cells – the same kind he had put into Sephiroth. He didn't bother to introduce the mako gradually like they do with SOLDIER candidates, though. They just submerged us in it." Without the hindrances of emotion, he recalled the acidic burn of the green liquid.

"Submerged? In pure mako?" Denzel's jaw dropped. "But…but people can't survive that! How did you…what happened to… _how?_ "

Cloud shrugged, still detached from the swirling colors of pain. "I guess it had something to do with the S-cells, but I don't really care anymore. I survived, and that's how it got into my blood."

Without another word, he got up and started gathering the gear they'd had scattered around the camp site. Denzel gaped at him like a fish. "Wait, that's it? That can't be the end of the story."

Cloud didn't stop what he was doing. "You wanted to know why I have mako eyes. Now you know."

"Yeah but…what about…how did you get out? What happened to Zack?"

Cloud froze with his back to Denzel. His emotions pulsed, pushing at the lid of the well, but he reached out and slammed it back down in his mind. "Zack died…because he was an idiot," he said flatly. He picked up the remaining items and walked toward the tent.

"Really, Cloud?" Denzel's voice was scathing, increasing in volume and intensity before Cloud could disappear into the tent. " _That's_ what you want to tell me about your best friend? That he was an idiot? Because for a minute there, I thought you were trying to tell me he was someone _special_."

The built-up emotions spewed out of the well, raking across his raw soul. " _He was!"_ Cloud spun around to glare at Denzel. "Don't you dare talk about him like that, Denzel! You didn't know him! You don't know anything about him!"

Denzel's chin quivered, but he refused to lower his eyes. He spoke softly. "You're right. I only know what you've told me about him."

Cloud was thrown off by the quiet calm of Denzel's words, the simple truth to them. The smell of burning leather reached his nose and he looked down to see the smoke drifting up from his gloves. He dropped the supplies he'd been carrying and curled his hands into fists, pushing back the glowing red on his fingertips that he knew was hidden underneath.

He couldn't afford to lose control of his emotions, not when he didn't have complete control of the fire inside him. As if to remind him, a burning ache flared in his gut. The materia seemed to be affecting him in ways that he had yet to figure out, but he had been noticing that his emotions were more volatile and unpredictable than before. And when he lost control of his emotions, he lost control of the fire. He couldn't let that happen.

Cloud let out a shaky breath and sank down slowly at his place by the fire. As his anger dulled, his mind cleared. Denzel didn't deserve to be the target of his damaged psyche. "Ok. Ok. I'll tell you about Zack."

Denzel gave him a small smile of encouragement and nodded.

Cloud shoved his hair back with his hands. The numbing well he had constructed had exploded, and the pain of his memories burned through his eyes, but he was determined to get through this. His voice was quiet and measured. "We were stuck in Dr. Hojo's lab for…I'm not sure exactly how long, but it was more than four years."

Denzel gasped out loud and quickly clapped his hand over his mouth.

"I wasn't awake the whole time," Cloud said, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "But I was for most of it. Zack kept me sane for a while. He talked and talked, about everything and nothing at all, and I knew he was just trying to distract me, but it still helped." Zack's voice floated through his head – the joking, the mindless rambling, and finally the begging. Cloud had been retreating into his own mind to escape the pain, cutting his ties to reality, becoming less responsive day by day. That was when Zack had become desperate. He had begged Cloud to stay with him. He had sworn he would get them out of there. He had sworn they would get revenge. He had sworn that he couldn't survive in there without Cloud.

Cloud grimaced with the pain of the memory. It was the first time he had heard real fear in his friend's voice, maybe the first time in that whole nightmare that Zack had let his true feelings show. "Zack was my whole universe in that place. But I was a coward," he said bitterly. "I just disconnected from reality and left Zack to suffer alone."

The shame was overwhelming. A single tear slipped from his eye and landed on the ground, soaking in to the dirt before he was aware it had been there at all.

"Zack kept his promise, though. Somehow he broke out." Cloud's hands tightened into fists. "He should have just left me. He should have saved himself and escaped. I was just a shell, alive but not really there. There was _no reason_ for him to drag me out of there, but he did. He carried me across two continents, and I was only slowing him down. Shinra caught up to us several times, and every time, he fought them off. He protected me and kept me safe, over and over again."

Cloud closed his eyes, digging into his deepest memories, and as always, finding only scraps. It had felt like a dream. He had seen Zack through an ocean of turbulent water, talking and gesturing and doing his ridiculous squats. At first he had just watched. He had suspected it was one of Hojo's tricks, or maybe Jenova's, and he had no desire to struggle back to the outside world.

But the longer he had watched, the more he had begun to doubt himself. He started to hear words coming through – at first just a few, and then there were whole sentences and whole conversations. It was just so perfectly _Zack_. He didn't believe Hojo or Jenova was capable of comprehending that kind of pure selflessness, or that either would be able to imitate the endless energy and optimism that was Zack Fair. But still, he hesitated. Even after he started to believe that he was seeing the real Zack, he hesitated. It was safe where he was. The world out there was full of pain and heartache.

But then he had remembered the fear in Zack's voice when he begged him to stay. He remembered how well Zack had been able to hide his emotions when he was trying to protect him. As he listened to Zack chattering away as if he were having a normal conversation with a coherent person, Cloud tried to imagine how Zack must really feel. The responsibility would be overwhelming, although Zack would never complain. The loneliness would be crippling. He was forced to hide from everyone, never knowing who to trust, never certain he could avoid the sprawling web of Shinra's influence. And the one person who would understand him, the one person in the world he knew he could trust, was hiding like a coward, tucked in the safety of the shell he had constructed.

Cloud was ashamed. He had been taking advantage of his best friend's sense of honor and duty, and it needed to stop. He had dived into the water, pushing and kicking his way to the surface, until the brisk fall air had assaulted his skin and he had felt himself being lifted in Zack's warm arms. _Ride's over, Cloud._

In front of the campfire, Cloud finally opened his eyes, bringing himself back to the present and meeting the eyes of the boy across the campfire. Denzel had been waiting patiently, and Cloud had no idea what he could be thinking, but his young eyes held no judgement, only compassion.

Cloud swallowed hard and braced himself for the next part of the story. "We had almost reached Midgar the last time they caught up with us. Shinra had sent an entire army this time. Hundreds of men, armed with rifles and grenades. Again, Zack could have escaped on his own, but he didn't. He wouldn't. He hid me behind some rocks and went out there to face them."

Cloud had tried so hard to tell him. He wanted to tell him to run, to hide, to do something, _anything_ other than march out there to his death. But it had been so long since he'd spoken, he couldn't remember how. He had to relearn how to move his body. He was just so tired, and moving was so much work. He really had tried, but as usual, his best wasn't good enough. He was too slow to stop Zack.

"By the time I dragged myself out there, the fight was over. He was…" Cloud's voice cracked, and a few more tears slipped unnoticed to the dry ground. He tilted his head back and stared up at the flawless night sky. "He asked me to live. That was his dying wish…for me to live for both of us. And then he was gone."

Cloud slowly lowered his head and stared into the flames, watching his best friend die all over again. The pain in his soul was still visceral and real. He had walked away, dragging the buster sword behind him, and soon had convinced himself that Zack had never existed at all. He had reconstructed his memories to be something he could live with. He blotted out the nightmares and remembered himself as he'd always wanted to be – as Zack. It was Tifa who had eventually drawn out his real memories, and Tifa who was there to help him put back the pieces of his shattered self. But a glued vase is never as flawless as the original, never as strong as it once was. A repaired vase will always be fragile.

Finally, Denzel said softly, "that doesn't sound like an idiot. It sounds very brave."

Cloud was startled by his voice. "Yeah. You're right," he said lowly. "I shouldn't have called him that. But he should have just left me. He should have given me up as a lost cause and saved himself." His voice grew rougher. "He would have stopped Sephiroth when he came back. He would have been able to protect Aerith. He would never have let so many people die, or the Planet get so destroyed."

"You don't know that," Denzel said with a frown.

Cloud scoffed, but didn't elaborate any further. A moment later, he was surprised to feel Denzel's arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"I'm glad he didn't give up on you, Cloud," Denzel whispered.

Cloud blinked rapidly, suddenly aware of the tears built up behind his eyes and slipping down his face. He wiped at them roughly, hoping Denzel hadn't noticed. He _never_ let himself cry in front of anyone anymore, not since Hojo's scathing words had ripped through his tender young ego.

He looked down at the wavy brown hair tucked under his chin. Maybe Tifa wasn't the only glue he had. Slowly, he raised his arms and hugged Denzel back.

* * *

Denzel laid awake in his sleeping bag, staring at the canvas ceiling. Cloud was still sitting out by the fire, not moving. The shame was coming off of him in palpable waves, and Denzel just didn't understand. At first it had been hard to believe the details as Cloud filled them in like the shading of a familiar drawing. The shading was just _wrong_ – it was like a bad remake of a great movie, where the villain turns out to be tragically misunderstood and the hero's motives impure. But in a way, this new dimension made the story more real to his more mature brain.

Sephiroth was a real person with dreams and a sense of self, which had been completely shattered in one traumatic week. It didn't make Denzel hate the man any less, but at least he understood him as a human being. And of course the mastermind-behind-the-villain had been introduced: Dr. Hojo. What kinds of horrible things had he put Cloud through over four long years? It was a nightmare, bookended on both sides by the loss of the most important people in his life.

Cloud and Tifa had both been orphaned that night in Nibelheim. The pain in Cloud's eyes, still fresh and raw, had felt like a bolt of electricity straight to Denzel's heart. His own parents had been killed when the plate over sector 7 collapsed, and it still hurt to remember them. He had never even thought about Cloud or Tifa having parents, or the fact that maybe they understood him better than he knew. Why had he never bothered to wonder about their pasts, outside of the stories that had made them famous?

He didn't become Cloud Strife, Savior of the Planet, Hero of Midgar, by coasting through the ranks of Shinra, using Mako to gain an unfair advantage. He had battled weakness and helplessness and loss. He had lived through Hell and come out the other side, stronger than he was before. As far as Denzel was concerned, that made him more of a hero, not less.

So why did Cloud carry it around like a burden of shame?

* * *

Cloud had never imagined that he'd have children. He had never wanted to. How could he possibly raise another human being to be a secure, reliable adult, when he had never felt like one himself? But Marlene and Denzel had come into his life anyway, lost souls in need of guidance. He had assumed Tifa would be the one to take care of them, the same way she took care of everyone. He had disappeared without a word to anyone when he had started seeing symptoms of Geostigma, never once thinking of how his absence would affect them – only knowing how his presence would.

Of course it was inevitable that they would see Tifa as a mother figure, but he never saw himself as anything more than a drifter in their lives. He wasn't fit to be anything more. So why was everyone so upset when he disappeared? Why did Marlene act like he was abandoning them? He wasn't supposed to be a stable or permanent part of their lives. But whether he wanted it or not, he couldn't pretend that he hadn't grown to care for them. He couldn't convince himself that their faces didn't light up when he walked through the door, or that he didn't feel lighter when he saw their smiles. And sometime, when he wasn't looking, they had come to see him like a father.

Denzel was looking less like a child every day. Cloud had started feeling like he was living a lie, letting Denzel believe the fairy tale version of him, but now he was afraid that things would never be the same again. How could he trust Cloud to protect him, knowing that he had failed the only person in his universe who had mattered to him at that time?

When Cloud finally came in that night, Denzel had fallen asleep on his sketch pad again. The lantern had been left burning and the oil was getting low. Cloud blew out the burning wick and gently pulled the sketch pad out from under Denzel's limp hand. His enhanced eyes didn't need the lantern to see what he was doing, and they picked out the details of the sketch easily.

It was another picture of Cloud with the flames in his hands, similar to the one he had seen before, but several details had been added to the sketch. Three new people had appeared behind him – Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel. Looking at them gave him a feeling of warmth and security, as if the drawing itself were radiating feelings. Cloud himself was no longer flawless, but clearly scarred and bruised. His clothes were torn and dirty. Even so, he didn't look weak or injured. He looked strong, vibrant, and fierce.

The people who stood behind him could clearly see his scars. And they still believed in him.

* * *

 **Day 5**

"Hang on," Cloud called over his shoulder as they sped down the dusty trail.

"What do you think I've been—" Denzel's sharp retort was cut off as the bike swerved sharply to the right and he slid off the side. He braced himself to hit the ground, but an arm reached back and shoved him roughly back onto the seat.

Denzel tried to anchor himself around Cloud's waist before he slid all the way off the other side. The bike swerved in the other direction, narrowly avoiding another beast attempting to impale them on its thick horns.

Denzel laughed nervously. "That was cl—whoa!"

Up ahead, coming fast from the southwest, a pack of bandersnatches charged straight for them, on a path to intercept the speeding motorcycle. The steep side of a cliff rose up to the east, and they were running out of room to dodge the animals. Cloud held out his left fist and it began to glow red. He opened it and thrust out his arm, sending a burst of flame into the pack, cutting through the middle and turning the bulk of the animals into yelping, rolling balls of burning fur. They immediately abandoned their charge and put all their attention on subduing the flames, causing most of the remaining pack behind them to stumble over their burning brothers. Their dry, coarse hair caught immediately and they peeled off from the pack as well.

About a quarter of the animals had escaped the inferno, still undeterred in their pursuit. They were about to cut off the bike, and Fenrir had nowhere to go.

Cloud leaned forward and bore straight ahead. A hiss and a popping sound indicated that the compartments holding Tsurugi had opened, but Denzel had already tucked his head against Cloud's back, bracing for an impact. It never came. The animals in the direct line of the tires leapt up and were sliced cleanly from the air, one after the other. A shower of hot, sticky blood rained down on both of them, and a trail of limp beasts fell to the ground behind the bike.

Denzel let out a cheer, even as he tried to shield his face from the worst of the blood. "Whoohoohoo! Cloud that was so cool! You shot that fire like – AGH!" His exhilarated laugh was cut short by a sharp pain on his leg. He looked down at the teeth sunk into his calf, shaking his leg as hard as he could, but the animal refused to let go. The heel of a big black boot was hammered into its face, and the creature let out a piercing yelp as it flew back.

Cloud glanced over his shoulder at Denzel. "Are you ok?"

Denzel didn't answer.

Cloud was still trying to dodge the remainder of the bandersnatches from the pack. They were fast, and they kept up with Fenrir, leaping to attack anytime they got close enough. He struck down any who came within reach of his sword.

"Denzel! Are you ok back there?"

The only response was the sound of Skoll being unsheathed. Cloud risked a longer glance back. Denzel's eyes were glazed and bloodshot, moving randomly from side to side. Cloud swore and brought back his sword just in time to block Denzel's strike. With the force of the swing and its abrupt stop, Denzel lost his hold on the bike and flew off the back, rolling in the dirt as Cloud skidded to a stop.

The bandersnatches didn't hesitate to take advantage of their vulnerable prey. They leapt onto the boy on the ground. Cloud jumped off the bike and charged at them, but Denzel wasn't too injured to fight back. His sword swung around, knocking the beasts back enough for him to get back up to his feet.

Impressed despite himself, Cloud began helping him dispatch the remainder of the pack, keeping a second sword out to block Denzel's occasional attacks against him. Yelping and snarling filled the air and furry bodies flew in every direction. When the pack had dwindled enough that Cloud wasn't surrounded by enemies, he merged his swords again, trying to fend off both Denzel and the rest of the snatches with one hand for long enough to pull a Remedy from the supplies at his belt.

Just as he pulled out the bottle, Denzel slashed himself across the chest with his sword. He screamed and fell to the ground. Stowing the bottle, Cloud made quick work of the last few beasts and then returned to his side. Denzel's face was white, sweat beading on his face, eyes wide.

Cloud knelt on the ground by his head. His voice was calm and confident. "Denz, you've got the restore materia. Can you handle a cure or do you want me to take it?"

Denzel blinked rapidly and shook his head. "I can do it. Let me try." He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. A faint green glow emanated from his bracer. Thin tendrils of skin from both sides of the wound reached out to form a bridge across the gaping slash, and the bleeding slowed.

Cloud examined the wound. It had only created a partial binding. "Do it again. It's not completely healed."

The green glow was slightly brighter this time. The wound sealed itself up, leaving only a faint pink line where it had been, and the blood he had already lost smeared across his chest.

Cloud held out a hand and helped him sit up. "You ok?"

Denzel nodded shakily. "I'm ok."

Cloud went to push his hair back, noticing just in time the streaks of blood that had dripped down to his gloves. He made a face and knelt on the ground to wipe the worst of it in the grass.

"Hey, Cloud?"

"Hm?" He continued wiping at the grass with his gloves.

"Did I…um…did I attack you?"

Cloud glanced up at him. "You tried."

"And then…did I hit myself?"

"Yup."

Deciding he had gotten the worst of the gore from his gloves, Cloud stood up and removed them, dropping them in the grass. He pulled the goggles off his head, searching for a clean place on his shirt to wipe them. He finally settled for the inside of the shirt, getting his hand covered in slimy blood, but the goggles more or less clean. He wiped his hands on the back of his pants, which had been mostly protected against the seat of the bike.

Denzel stared at Cloud without really absorbing what he was seeing. It was terrifying to think that for a few brief moments, he had forgotten who was the enemy. Cloud had taught him about status effects at one point in his lessons, but it had been brief. Besides that, hearing about it didn't compare at all to _experiencing_ it. He had absolutely no idea that there was anything wrong with him until the effect had worn off. It felt as natural as anything to attack Cloud. What if he had really hurt someone? He wasn't too worried about hurting Cloud, but what if it had happened when Marlene was there? Or anyone else, really. He was strong and skilled enough now that he could accidentally hurt just about anyone if he had a sword in his hand. The thought haunted him.

Cloud finally stopped wiping his hands and looked up. Denzel's face was pale again. Cloud sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around Denzel's shoulder reassuringly.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Cloud said as he gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Bandersnatch bites cause confusion. Happens to all of us."

Denzel shrugged. "It doesn't happen to you," he mumbled.

"It has before," Cloud said seriously. "Before I found my ribbon." Denzel looked up, wondering if Cloud was about to tell him about a string of accidental murders on his conscience.

"Yeah, my instructor was really ticked," he said with a straight face. "He said it was the worst headache he'd had in years."

A laugh bubbled up out of Denzel. "A headache?"

"Well, yeah," Cloud said. "You think they give actual deadly weapons to cadets? I was pretty popular for a while after that, though. The guy was kind of a jerk."

Denzel looked at him suspiciously. "Are you sure you were actually confused?"

Cloud grinned wickedly. "I'll never tell."

Denzel laughed and stood up. He grimaced at the tacky blood drying on his skin – his own now mixed with the bandersnatch blood that had drenched them. "I don't suppose you have a travel-size shower in one of those compartments."

Cloud looked sadly at Fenrir. "Ah, no. But there's a river a few miles from here. If you can stand it for a little while longer, I can find us a place near water to stop for lunch."

Denzel wiped a large chunk of gore from the side of the bike. "At least we've already caught our lunch," he said, flicking it at Cloud.

It stuck in his blood-soaked spikes and he made a face, extracting it from his hair. "Now that you mention it, I'm not all that hungry right now." He tossed away the gore and stood up.

It was close to half an hour later before they came across the river Cloud had mentioned, and he refused to stop until they found a wide enough section of the stream with only flat terrain around it. By that time, their clothes were almost dried stiff. The sun was cooking the remaining gore, making the smell nearly unbearable. He stopped the bike and turned it off.

Denzel put his feet on solid ground and pulled at the hem of his shirt, considering how to best get it off with the least amount of nastiness getting on his face.

He heard a splash and he looked up, startled. Cloud was already in the water, all of his clothes still on.

Denzel raised his eyebrows as Cloud surfaced. "Do you always bathe with your clothes on?"

"Naw, but this right here is a high-tech shower slash washing machine in one!" Cloud sounded like an excitable late-night infomercial host. "Watch and learn." He dunked his head underwater and swam to a narrowed area of the river where the current was strongest. When he stood, the vivid red in his hair had been diluted to a muted pink. He held out his arms and twisted his body from side to side like an agitator, watching the red flowing downstream. He grinned over at Denzel. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. You should give it a try."

Denzel laughed. He stepped in from the edge gingerly, letting the water soften his stiff pants.

Cloud scoffed. "Weren't you watching the demo? That's not how you use the product. Here, let me help you."

Before Denzel could register what was happening, he had been tackled by a flying, soaking wet body and had his head dunked under the water. He came up sputtering, at which point Cloud wrapped his arms around him and lifted his feet from the ground, swishing his body from side to side in the current.

Denzel laughed and squirmed from his grasp, attempting to dunk Cloud, but he may as well have been trying to push a tree out of the ground. Denzel circled around behind him and jumped on his back, tugging and trying to throw him off balance. Cloud raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, watching his struggles with an amused smirk.

With a huff, Denzel gave up dropped off his back, circling back around to the front. Cloud watched him warily as the boy faced him. Without warning, Denzel bent his knees and launched his arms forward and up, splashing a wave of water over Cloud's head. Cloud tried to cover his head with his arms, but all the strength in the world couldn't defend him from the non-stop barrage of splashing. Denzel continued heaping water on him until he felt a foot hook around his ankles, pulling him under.

When he popped his head back above the water, Cloud was grinning and holding up a hand. "Truce?"

Denzel grabbed the hand and let Cloud pull him to his feet. "For now," he said with a coy grin. He launched onto his back and paddled lazily downstream.

Cloud removed his gloves and swished them under the water, and then shook off the excess. He tossed them onto the shore and then unzipped his shirt and peeled it off, swishing it under water until it seemed reasonably gore-free. He wrung it out and then tossed it on the shore with his gloves. Denzel shrugged and started to copy him. He took off his boots and most of his outer layer of clothes, but he had lived all his life surrounded by people and didn't have the nerve to wander around outside completely naked.

Cloud had no such qualms, however. Once every piece of his clothing was in a wet heap on the shore, he swam with smooth strokes against the current, forgetting about the long drive they still had ahead, the troubles awaiting them back in Edge, and that other problem that he was trying hard not to think about.

In the meantime, Denzel had climbed out of the water, gathered up their wet clothes, and spread them out on a rock to dry in the sun. The warm heat on his back was soothing.

"Hey! Denzel! Come check this out!"

Denzel followed the voice around a bend in the river, to a copse of trees just on the other side of the flowing water. The area was completely in the shadows, and goosebumps broke out on his still-damp skin as he ducked into an opening in the greenery. The inside reminded him of a secret hideout he had imagined when he was younger, where he and Marlene had endless adventures in which they were always the heroes and the villains were always brought to justice.

Inside this shadowed grove was a small pond. It looked like it had been part of the river at one time, but the patch of ground connecting it had cut it off during a dry season. Now it was completely separate, a quiet little independent body of water almost completely surrounded by trees. Except it wasn't exactly quiet. Cloud was drifting near the middle and there were bubbles popping up behind his back.

"Dude! What the heck are you doing?" Denzel called, laughing.

Cloud looked at him with an expression of pure innocence. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Gods, did you really call me over here to watch you stink up the grove? I thought you were supposed to be the adult!"

Cloud grinned from his place in the middle of the pond, and the bubbles started to grow in size and intensity until they were completely surrounding him. It looked like he was being boiled in a pot of water.

"Wait a minute… are you…" Denzel poked a toe in the edge of the water. It was warm. "No way!" He plunged in the rest of the way, soothing his chills with the rapidly heating water. "Aww man this is amazing!" He stretched his body out along the gently sloping floor of the pond, letting the heat ease the ache of days spent bouncing along the uneven path and sleeping on the rocky ground.

After the water was hot enough to be almost uncomfortable, Cloud swam over and found a place next to Denzel where he could sit up, submerged to his shoulders. "Never thought we'd find our own hot springs on this trip, eh? Tifa's gonna be so jealous that she missed out."

Denzel grinned at him. "Definitely one of the perks to having superpowers." He shifted onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow, keeping his face just above the water. His eyes were eager. "So when did you figure out you could do this?"

"Hmm." Cloud scratched his head. "I guess it was a couple weeks after the accident. I grabbed Tifa's leg and she yelped. I burned her."

"Really?" Denzel asked, trying to picture it. "What happened? What were you doing?"

"Uhh…sparring."

"Sparring? You burned right through your gloves?"

"Erm, no, I wasn't wearing them." Cloud looked distracted, staring up at the trees.

"But you always wear your gloves when you're sparring."

Cloud turned to look him in the eyes. "Denzel. Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to."

Denzel blinked a couple times. "Oh. Right." He shook his head and forcefully redirected his thoughts. "So then what? You just started seeing what you could do?"

Cloud shrugged and settled back into the water. "More or less. First I needed to learn how to control it. I didn't know how I was doing it; it just happened when I was angry or…you know…feeling some strong emotion. I started working on it in the training room, learning how to create an actual flame and throw it and stuff. And then something weird happened."

"Weirder than making flame appear in your hands?"

"Well, maybe equally weird," Cloud grinned. "The materia inside me started to get stronger. I can cast Fira now, and I think I've almost got Firaga. I didn't think it could be leveled when it was broken, but…well, I didn't think I would be able to use it to cast, either." He pushed his wet hair back with his hands, making it stick up even more comically than usual.

"Oh, and check this out!" he blurted excitedly as he sat up. He held up his hands and a reddish pulse started from his wrists, moving up through his palms. The red glow slid up through his thumb until it reached the end, and then a tiny flame popped out and stayed lit on the tip. He did this with each finger in turn, until 10 little flames danced in front of his face. With the combination of his mad-scientist hair and burning fingertips, he truly looked like he crawled out of one of the comic books Denzel used to keep under his bed.

Denzel laughed until his stomach hurt. "What else can you do? Can you shoot streams in the air?"

"Psh. That's cake." Cloud shot a stream straight up from one hand, keeping a constant flame burning.

"That's just one stream. Can you do a bunch?"

"Oh," Cloud said. He screwed up his face in concentration and held up his right hand, moving the red glow up through his fingers until 5 little streams shot from his fingers. He waved his hand and the five streams leaned from side to side as they followed behind his moving fingers.

Denzel laughed and clapped. "Can you make shapes in the air? Like a dragon? What about between your hands?"

He made requests for Cloud and then tried to stay quiet as he watched the normally serious man screw up his face in concentration. He was pretty sure Cloud was just making the faces for his entertainment, because he was having just as much trouble trying not to laugh as he did it.

"Are your hands the only place you can send it from?"

The goofy expression slipped off Cloud's face. "Well, that's where I have the most control over the fire."

"Yeah, but what about your feet?" Denzel urged. "What if you're like…barefoot for some reason…and your hands are busy?" He giggled at the mental picture of Cloud balancing on one foot, swinging two swords and kicking fire from his other foot.

"Um, yeah, I'm sure that will happen," Cloud said with a grin. Nevertheless, he propped one calf on the opposite knee and concentrated on the toes pointing up in the air. He pursed his lips and squinted and generally just looked constipated, but the red was slowly moving up his foot. Eventually, it reached the tips and puffed out one little burst of flame. The red receded quickly as Denzel cheered.

"What else? Try something else new!" Denzel demanded.

"Like what? Elbows? Knees? Seems like more of the same thing," Cloud said with a shrug.

"What about…ooh! Can you _breathe_ fire?" Denzel asked with a gleam in his eye.

"I don't know. Let's see," Cloud said. He sat up and a serious look came over his face, like he was actually trying to focus instead of just being goofy.

"Um, Cloud, I was just joking," Denzel said nervously. "I don't think you should really try that."

Cloud ignored him, continuing to focus. Denzel's mouth dropped as he saw the red tint shining through Cloud's neck. It sped up and out, Cloud opening his mouth just in time to spurt out a belch of flame. His eyes grew wide and he dunked his face quickly into the water with a sizzle.

"Cloud!" Denzel yelled, moving himself as quickly as possible in the water to get to Cloud's side.

But Cloud came up laughing and spitting out the water he'd plunged into too quickly. "Whoo! That was a lot faster than I expected."

Denzel felt the tension leave his body as his nervous laughter joined Cloud's. "So you can breathe fire. But…you probably shouldn't do that again."

They talked for hours. Cloud periodically swam to the center of the pond to reheat the water, and idly played with the flames as they discussed swords and fighting styles and plans for modifications to Fenrir. Denzel talked about school and friends and all the attention he had gotten after the town invasion. "Honestly, I was just getting sick of being followed everywhere I went. I pretended I had to pee like 20 times a day just so I could get a breather from the girls."

Cloud smirked. "Only girls in your fan club?"

Denzel sighed dramatically. "Well, no, but the guys just followed me in and kept asking questions. I couldn't really escape them."

"Ooh. Awkward," Cloud said sympathetically.

"Tell me about it," Denzel sighed. "I finally had to tell them about my horribly contagious disease that I was afraid of spreading to them. It didn't faze the really dedicated fans, but at least it thinned them out enough so I could breathe."

Cloud laughed out loud as Denzel told him how he had explained his disease in grisly detail to a group of clingy teenagers.

"Some of them didn't believe me, so I have this one friend who is really artistic, and I had him paint a bunch of really nasty-looking sores on me. I put flour on my face so I'd look pale and sickly all day. The next day, a handful of my followers had identical-looking sores all over. They wore them like a badge of honor to show their dedication."

Cloud laughed even harder, plunging his hands under the water with a sizzle as he struggled to get himself under control. The kid was really a gifted storyteller, and he had a contagious laugh that was enough to set Cloud off again every time he managed to calm down. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like this.

Denzel studied his companion in the dimming sunlight. "How come you don't have that problem? You're actually, like, famous, and people don't hound you constantly."

"Mm." Cloud nodded. "Why do you think I bought Fenrir in the first place?" He smiled wryly, but Denzel had a feeling he was actually serious. "It was pretty bad in the beginning. Sometimes I told them to buzz off, but mostly I just ignored them if I couldn't escape. I think eventually most of them decided I was a jerk and left me alone. There were a few stalker-type women that couldn't take a hint, but…"

"But what?" Denzel prodded.

Cloud's eyes twinkled brighter as the sun sank below the tree line. "Tifa put the fear of Shiva in them."

Denzel's mouth dropped. "That didn't happen."

"It did." Cloud grinned. "I don't think she _seriously_ injured anyone. Just a few broken bones, you know, little stuff like that." He scooted back to the bank and put his hands behind his head. "Besides, it's not all bad. I got the girl, didn't I?"

"You mean Tifa? What, she was attracted to your fame?" Denzel asked skeptically.

Cloud snorted. "Heck, no. She was just as annoyed by it as I was. Mostly we just got closer traveling and fighting together, but it gave me the courage to finally go for it. What about you? That girl you had a date with this week – the timing seems awfully convenient, right in the middle of your seven minutes of fame."

Denzel was glad that the light was fading. He hoped Cloud couldn't see the pink tint of his cheeks, but the way the corners of Cloud's lips curled up, it was unlikely. Denzel wrapped his arms around his knees, turning his head away bashfully. "Well, she did say that it sounded cool. So I guess it made her notice me, at least."

"So what's she like? What do you like about her?"

"Umm.." Alicia's face, which he had memorized down to the tiniest detail, materialized in Denzel's mind. "She has long black hair and the prettiest green eyes. She twirls her hair around her finger when she's nervous, and she bites her lip when she's concentrating, and she always bounces her left knee in class when we're taking a test. And she has this really dark freckle, right here." Denzel touched the apple of his cheek lightly. "And I guess I just like the way she smiles." He shrugged shyly.

"Uh huh." Cloud stared at him, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile.

"What?" Denzel asked, glaring back at him. "Why are you looking at me like that?" The smile widened and Denzel shoved his shoulder. "Dude! You're creeping me out!"

Cloud laughed out loud. "You've got it bad, kid."

"Oh shut up," Denzel grumbled, but he couldn't seem to wipe the goofy smile off his face, either.

"Well, I'm turning into a prune," Cloud announced. "I'm getting out." He pulled himself out of the water and stretched, totally at ease with his nudity.

"Dude!" Denzel hissed, looking away quickly. "Are you just going to wander around like that? What if someone comes along and sees you?"

Cloud laughed out loud and spread his arms wide, looking more relaxed than Denzel had seen him in a very long time. "Who's going to come along, city boy? We're in the middle of nowhere!" He ducked through the opening in the trees and disappeared.

Denzel shook his head, smiling. It had been a long time since he had seen Cloud in a playful mood and he wasn't going to be the one to spoil it. The pond was starting to get chilly though, and his hot water heater had left him, so he grudgingly got up from his comfy bed of sand.

When he got back to the campsite, Cloud was already dressed in dry clothes and rubbing his hair with a towel. There was a fire burning, but he hadn't bothered to set up camp otherwise.

"I'll get the tent," Denzel said, wrapping a towel around his shivering body. He was seriously starting to regret his decision to keep his underclothes on. The damp material was soaking through his towel and dripping water down his legs.

"Why bother?" Cloud asked. "It's a nice night. Why don't we sleep under the stars tonight?"

"Yeah? Ok," Denzel said with a smile. He grabbed his pack from Fenrir and retreated behind some trees to change out of his wet clothes. Cloud had never said anything about his shyness, and Denzel was grateful. Sometimes middle school locker room incidents really stuck with you.

Once he was in dry clothes, he returned to the campsite to find Cloud warming up their food and realized he was ravenous. They had forgotten all about lunch after spending the whole day playing in the water. Denzel felt a flutter of guilt as he sat down by the fire. "We didn't cover much ground today."

Cloud shrugged. "Yeah. You in a hurry to get back? You still have a couple days before school starts again."

"Uh, not really," Denzel said uncomfortably.

"Ohhh, I see," Cloud said, eyeing him.

"What?" Denzel asked, trying to hide his alarm. There was no way Cloud could have guessed about the sketch, was there?

Cloud crossed his arms and leaned back against the tree behind him with a smirk. "You want to get back to see Alicia."

Denzel forced a laugh. "Uh, yeah. Kinda." And it was true, wasn't it? He had no idea when or even if there would be some kind of disaster in Edge. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that the sketch hadn't come from a vision at all. He had forced it because he wanted so badly to make his ability work when he wanted it.

Suddenly, Cloud grimaced and grabbed at his stomach.

Denzel sat up. "Cloud? Are you ok?"

Cloud shook his head and leaned back again. "Yeah. Just some weird, random pain."

"Hm," Denzel said, studying him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Cloud said, waving him away. He sat up and stirred the pans over the fire. "This looks warm. Ready to eat? Oh wait, stupid question," Cloud said without waiting for an answer. "You're always ready to eat."

Denzel snorted. "Like you're one to talk."

* * *

Their sleeping bags were laid out on opposite sides of the fire, but angled so that their heads were near each other. They laid on top of their respective bedding, the night warm enough that they didn't need to be covered. Cloud was on his back with his hands behind his head, staring up into the night sky. Denzel lay on his stomach with his head turned to one side, resting his cheek on his arms.

They had started off with Denzel asking Cloud about his childhood, but had gradually moved into talking about their shared past.

"Tifa says she's glad you're training me, but she always seems to find some excuse to keep me from actually fighting monsters," Denzel complained.

"Yeah, well, she worries about you," Cloud said.

"Well, it's stupid," Denzel retorted. "I mean, what's the point of even learning if she doesn't want me to use it?"

"It's not that she doesn't want you to use it," Cloud said cautiously. "It's just that she doesn't want anything to…uh…attack you back."

Denzel scoffed. "So she actually _does_ want me to battle trees, then?"

Cloud laughed out loud. "Well no, because then you'd be attacking something that means you no harm."

"Ugh! I just can't win!" Denzel announced dramatically.

Cloud rolled over onto his stomach and rested his chin on his hands, looking at Denzel. "Denz, do you remember when you first came to live with us?"

"Yeah, kinda," Denzel said. "I mean, I remember when you found me at the church. I remember when you left us."

Cloud swallowed and looked guilty. "Um…yeah. Well, back then, you were really small and really sick. Tifa has this need to take care of everyone, you know? But no matter what she did, she couldn't make you better. We were just watching you fade away, and it was killing her that she couldn't do anything about it."

Denzel sighed. He felt a little bad, knowing that he had upset Tifa like that, but it wasn't as if he could do anything about it. "But then I got better! And she still acts like I need to be protected all the time. It's really annoying, Cloud."

Cloud gave a small smile and brushed some hair away from Denzel's eyes. "Tifa's just –"

The shrill music of Cloud's ringtone interrupted their discussion. They both sat up immediately. It was extremely late – too late for anyone to call with anything but bad news.

Cloud snatched up the phone. "Tifa?"

The noise in the background was so loud that Cloud held the phone away from his hear. Denzel could clearly hear everything coming through the phone. " _Cloud!_ " Tifa shouted over the din. " _Are you guys getting close to Edge?_ "

"What? Why? What's going on?" Cloud's voice was calm, but Denzel had gotten very good at reading the subtle changes in Cloud's eyes over the last week, and this one wasn't subtle. He was worried.

" _There's something – I don't know what_. _There are monsters overrunning the town. I'm fighting off as many as I can, but…"_

"How many?" Cloud asked calmly. "Is the wall completely smashed, or is there a small section that can be repaired?"

 _"Hundreds,"_ Tifa said. _"And…it isn't."_

Cloud pushed back a mop of spikes with his hand, looking grim. But surely it was some kind of misunderstanding. Tifa wasn't making sense.

 _"_ It isn't broken anywhere," Cloud said, sounding resigned but not surprised.

" _It's not,"_ Tifa confirmed. _"No one knows how they got in."_

Cloud's face hardened into what Denzel liked to think of as 'commander mode _'_. He jumped to his feet and started rolling up his sleeping bag with one hand. "Ok. We're not close, but we'll be there as soon as we can. Try and get everyone who can't fight into the town hall. Organize anyone capable with weapons and send them out in groups. Find someone who can triage and have Marlene heal the worst cases. And call in our old crew."

 _"Our old—"_ Tifa gasped. _"Cloud, it will take them at least 12 hours to get here. I'm sure once you get here, we can handle it."_

Cloud didn't answer her. He handed the empty pots to Denzel. "Go fill these up in the river and dump them on the fire. We have to go." He finished packing up their supplies as Tifa connected the dots.

 _"You…you aren't going to be back that soon, are you?"_ she asked, speaking slowly.

"No. We're not. I can't drive that fast with Denzel, Teef. We're almost a full day out."

 _"Tifa!"_ Marlene's voice rang out from the background. _"They're starting in on the town hall. The stupid people inside won't keep the door shut! They're complaining about it being too hot in there."_

Tifa sighed audibly. It sounded like she was running. _"Why is it so hard to understand that monsters are attracted to smell?"_

Of course Tifa had already done most of what Cloud had thought of. He was the leader by default, but Tifa was master of organization, and she wouldn't have called for help unless she really thought that they couldn't handle it without him. The town hall had been reinforced for just such an event, but even that building could only take so much punishment. Even as she held onto the phone, they could hear snarling and screeching as her kicks and punches landed.

 _"I have to go. Please hurry, Cloud."_

The phone clicked as it disconnected. Cloud hooked it onto the handlebars as he and Denzel climbed on Fenrir. The tires spun in the dirt as they left behind their little slice of paradise.


	7. Chapter 7 – The Crumbling Edge

**Chapter 7 – The Crumbling Edge**

Marlene was frazzled. She had been healing wounded townspeople for over 12 hours with virtually no breaks. She had been working on her capacity (or "magic points" as Tifa called them) and was much stronger than when she had first started training, but she had run through her magic points several times over already. Tifa had a limited supply of ether, but the local apothecary had donated everything in his stock to keep her going after she had healed his grievously injured wife. They had already burned through all of his phoenix downs, and the supply of potions and hi-potions were being carefully rationed by a matronly woman named Eleanor Joya.

A section of the town hall was set aside as a makeshift hospital. A few cots had been brought in, but not nearly enough for the queue of people waiting to be seen. Most of the injured were huddled on blankets on the floor, and a wall to lean on if they were lucky enough to find a space.

Ms. Joya had taken on the role of triage nurse. She did what she could to slow bleeding and reset bones when needed. There were certain things that needed to be done before Marlene could effectively cure them, and as the mother of 8 clumsy children, she was most qualified to apply first aid. (She had also had some training as an army nurse, but she claimed that she had learned more patching up her bumbling chitlins than she ever had with formal training.)

She had come up with a system with colored handkerchiefs that she handed out to the patients as she evaluated them. They were designated as critical (pink flowered hankie), urgent (green and yellow stripes), or wounded (blue swirls). Some of the time, Marlene could only give attention to the pink flowered hankies, and then often only enough to get them downgraded to green and yellow stripes before moving to more pink flowers. When things slowed down a bit and she could see no more pink hankies, she returned to the striped hankie patients. Those whose injuries were minor enough to be given blue swirls were sent off to another area, where a team of volunteers armed with antiseptic, gauze, splints, and tape were there to patch them up.

There were also some designated "helpers" – some girls around Marlene's age that brought around water to the people waiting to be seen and helped them drink it, or brought extra towels or blankets if there were any to be found.

The rest of the townspeople, those who weren't injured, caring for the injured, or out on rescue missions to bring in the survivors, milled around the town hall listlessly. A few of the stronger, more capable types had tried to help with the fighting, but they had badly underestimated the strength of their enemies. These beasts were not the occasional nuisance on the edge of town that could be chased off with a pitchfork. These monsters were big and strong and feral. They destroyed homes and ended lives without a modicum of guilt.

Many of Marlene's most critical patients were these brave but misguided people who had tried to help Tifa and her crew protect the town. They were not trained fighters. They were farmers and barbers and shopkeepers. Marlene poured everything she had into helping these people, because she knew that they were brave enough to do what she was not.

A wave of exhaustion swept over her as she put a hand to the wall to steady herself. One of the helpers, a girl named Alexis ("Lexi, please") came up behind Marlene and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"You're doing a really great job, Marlene," she said sincerely. She was a few years older than Marlene, with thoughtful brown eyes and wavy brown hair. She was slightly familiar, and Marlene thought that she'd possibly seen her around the halls at school.

Marlene tried to smile. "Thanks Lexi. You too."

Lexi snorted. "I'm about as useful as a pigeon in a pigpen. But what you can do…that's really something, Marlene. There are people here who would have died without you."

It's amazing how much difference a few words can make. A little ray of sunshine brightened Marlene's heart and she straightened up. "What you're doing helps too, Lexi. You're giving people comfort when they're scared and hurting. That's important."

Lexi smiled bashfully. "Well, back to it, I guess," she said, waving as she walked away.

A couple of hours later, they were down to the green and yellow hankies. It had been a while since a new wave had come in, and all of their patients seemed at least stable. Marlene took a break to get some water from the table at the center of the hall.

Across the room, she heard some commotion as two men helped carry a third inside. Ms. Joya waved frantically to get her attention. "Marlene! Get over here quick!"

Marlene hurried over, calling out to the lifestream even as she ran. By the time she reached him, the bright green glow at her wrist was channeled into a flow of healing that streamed out through her fingertips. The man arched his back as she moved her hand over his chest, where a huge gash was spurting crimson blood. She stopped the flow of the stream before it could reach him. He wouldn't heal properly if he couldn't hold still.

Ms. Joya was leaning over the man and attempting to press against both sides to bring the wound together, but the man was squirming and writhing in pain. On top of that, the blood was covering Ms. Joya's arms and spraying her face, making everything slippery and hard to see.

"Hannah! Lexi! We need your help!" Marlene called out over the man's screams.

The helpers hurried to the man's side. Hannah stood opposite of Ms. Joya, trying to hold the wound closed from that side, but she was quickly getting as slippery as the older woman, and even the two of them couldn't hold the man still. Lexi knelt down by the man's head and took his hand. She spoke softly in his ear. Her crooning words were unintelligible to Marlene, but the man immediately calmed. His thrashing stopped and his back relaxed against the floor. Ms. Joya and Hannah pressed his skin together so that the wound could mend evenly while Marlene streamed healing light over his chest.

The bleeding slowed dramatically, but the man was still pale and his breathing was shallow. A wave of dizziness swept over Marlene and the world went out of focus. _No! Not now! I can't run out of magic points now! He's not healed enough yet!_ Pain started to thread up her arms as she fought against her body. _Just a little more! Just give me a little more!_

"Marlene. Stop." Lexi pulled back on Marlene's hands.

"No! He's still bleeding inside! I can still feel it!" Marlene cried. But she could also feel that the blood was slowing, being pushed weakly by the fading beats of his heart. "Get me some ether! I need to finish!"

Hannah ran over to the supplies and returned a moment later with a bottle of ether. Marlene snatched it and swallowed it down, feeling the clarity trickling into her muddled head. The empty bottle hit the floor with a muted clang as she grabbed onto the current of the lifestream again. But something was wrong. The healing stream wouldn't go into the man's body. It swirled around above his chest, going nowhere and ultimately dissipating into the air.

"Why isn't this working?" Marlene cried. She sent out another surge, and again it swirled above the man's chest and disappeared.

Lexi reached out to Marlene's hand and gently enclosed it within her own. "Marlene. It's too late. He's gone."

"No he's not! I can bring him back! I just needed a little more! Let me finish!" She sent out bursts, fighting against Lexi's hand.

"Marlene. Stop. You're wasting magic and there are other people who need your help," Lexi murmured in her ear.

"No! I just…no! Just let me!" Marlene sobbed. And then she crumbled.

Lexi held her, letting her gently down to the floor as she cried. She wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, held Marlene's head against her chest, and started singing. The words she sang meant nothing to Marlene, but the pain in her stomach began to fade as the music filled her head. The room around her faded out. The sharp iron smell of blood that had been inescapable for most of the day dulled and disappeared. There was only the music. Incredibly, a sense of peace soothed the jagged edges of her heart.

Marlene blinked and sat up as the music faded. She looked at Lexi in awe. "What did you just do?"

Lexi shrugged. "I just sang the first thing that popped into my head. I was just trying to get you to calm down."

"But I—" The sounds of groaning and crying filtered back in, and Marlene remembered where she was. She had work to do. She squeezed Lexi's hand and stood. "We need to talk later."

Lexi got to her feet as well. The others had covered the man's body and gone off to divest themselves of the worst of the blood. Marlene felt a faint sadness as she looked at the covered body, but none of the anguish that had overwhelmed her before. In fact, she felt more refreshed than she had in hours. Lexi had started to walk away when Marlene called out to her again.

"Lexi? Just…um…thanks," she finished awkwardly.

Lexi smiled and nodded, then turned away.

* * *

Denzel clung desperately to Cloud as they raced through the night. He had been uncomfortable with their speed on the way there, but this was terrifying. The helmet blocked out most of his vision, which was fine with Denzel. He didn't even want to look at all the things that were flying by fast enough to dismember him. He locked his hands together in front of Cloud and tucked his head against his back as he had been instructed. Cloud's body would serve as a shield against any debris or smaller branches that he didn't want to spend the time swerving to avoid.

The wind was cold against Denzel's arms, but he could feel Cloud's heat through his shirt, and he was _hot._ Denzel was getting uncomfortably warm just from the places they were in contact. He felt the first twitch at Cloud's abdomen after they had been on the road for about an hour. Cloud didn't show any outward reaction. They continued driving.

The next twitch was much stronger. It was accompanied by a rough grunt. Denzel lifted his head slightly. "Cloud! Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm…AGH!" Cloud doubled over, wrapping one arm around his stomach. He released his grip on the accelerator and the bike began to slow, but not nearly enough. He raised his head and reached out for the handlebar again, but before he could reach it, another pain tore through him. Cloud screamed and released both handlebars, aware of nothing but the searing pain ripping through his insides.

"CLOUD!" Denzel screamed.

Cloud was doubled over, attempting to curl himself into a ball. Fenrir swerved dangerously to one side. Denzel reached over him and grabbed the handlebars, attempting to straighten the speeding bike. He overcorrected, careening to the other side. Cloud stopped screaming and slumped in the seat, unconscious. Denzel released one of the handlebars and attempted to hold on to Cloud as he slid to one side. The guy was _heavy_. He managed to straighten the wobbling bike, but he was starting to lose his hold on Cloud.

He scanned the gauges and levers frantically, searching for the brake. Why hadn't Cloud ever shown him how to drive this thing? They were decelerating, but still moving way too fast.

"Cloud! Wake up!" he yelled down at him.

Cloud didn't wake up. Denzel's arm strained under the weight of Cloud's body as it slumped further off the side of the bike. His muscles burned and quivered. "Cloud! What do I do, Cloud? HELP me! Wake UP!"

Denzel's arm gave out. Cloud's body fell to the side, pulling Denzel and the bike down with it. They skidded across the rocky dirt together. Denzel's arm was still trapped underneath the heavy body. He felt every rock and stick tearing through his flesh, and he heard the distinctive _snap_ of his forearm as the bone splintered. Finally the friction against Cloud's body pulled him free from Denzel, and Denzel bounced and rolled before coming to an abrupt stop against a tree. Pain speared through his back, competing with the agony radiating up his arm.

The sound of metal scraping against rock stopped a moment later as Fenrir slid to a halt. Denzel kept his eyes shut tight, trying to breathe through the pain. His stomach rolled and he turned his head to the side, barely quick enough to avoid vomiting all over himself. He tried not to move as he heaved and coughed. Every tiny movement sent a bonus shot of agony through his body.

Once he had managed to continue breathing for a few minutes, he lifted his uninjured arm – relatively uninjured, anyway. It was scraped and bruised, but had received some protection from his bracer. The restore materia was covered in dust and scratches, but it was still intact. The pain made it hard to focus, but he pushed it from his mind and called out to the lifestream. It slid through his body like a soothing stream, easing the ache in his back and dulling the pain in his arm. He kept his eyes closed as he focused. The tingling in his arm was intense, bordering on painful, but he pushed through it, knowing that all of the individual cells inside of his arm were being repaired.

Finally, he opened his eyes. He was exhausted. He pushed himself up on to his knees and looked around for Cloud. He saw nothing but blackness in every direction. The only thing of note was the trail of disturbed dirt where Denzel had skidded across the ground. At the very least, he could follow their skid marks to get back to Cloud, although he had no idea how far that might be.

Denzel started crawling in that direction, but as he put his weight on his healed arm, it collapsed under him. Alarmed, he sat up to examine it. It didn't hurt anymore, but it didn't look right, either. It seemed crooked somehow. The muscles seemed to work, but they weren't firing in the way he expected. It was like they were getting commands from his brain, but the orders were all mixed up.

Biting his lip, he pushed himself on, crawling with one arm, the other held protectively against his chest. After an excruciatingly slow 50 yards, he came across the heap of dusty clothes that was Cloud. He looked like he hadn't moved from the place where his skid had ended. Denzel looked him over. He didn't seem nearly as scraped up as Denzel had been, but his skin was much tougher due to all the mako treatments.

Denzel gently pushed on a shoulder. He jerked back his hand as if he'd been burned. It _felt_ like he'd been burned. Gingerly, he reached out and touched the shoulder again. It was definitely hot, but it wouldn't burn him. He shook his shoulder harder. "Cloud. Wake up!"

Still no response. Feeling suddenly panicked, Denzel rolled Cloud onto his back. His head lolled limply to one side. "Come _on_ , Cloud, this isn't funny anymore! You've got to get up!" Wet tracks cut through the dust on Denzel's cheeks. He bit back the mounting hysteria.

 _'No matter what happens, you have to stay calm. Think through it. Take in your environment and evaluate your options.'_

Yes, trainer Cloud-in-his-head had a good point. Getting hysterical would help no one. But his heartbeat refused to slow down. His brain was spinning in useless circles. Snippets of voices flew past, random fragments of conversation remembered over the years.

 _Denzel, you need to finish…Don't eat those they'll make you sick…Wait for me…Can you show me how…Watch your feet…It's your turn for…Remember that day…Getting tired, buddy…You're not old enough…Don't touch the…_

There was something in there. Something he needed to grab on to.

 _Getting tired, buddy?_

That was it. That was the memory he needed. He clung to it desperately, letting the rest of the memory fill in around that one phrase. The sound of the waves. The murmur of familiar voices. The heaviness of a hand. The feeling of safety.

The tingling warmth of the lifestream ebbed and flowed around him, easily within his reach. _Of course! I haven't even tried to heal him yet!_

Denzel opened his eyes as the warmth flowed through his fingers and into Cloud. Denzel watched anxiously for his reaction. The relatively minor scrapes and cuts of his road rash sealed themselves under healthy skin, but Cloud didn't move. Denzel channeled more, widening the stream. But still, Cloud didn't move.

 _Ok. Ok, what now? Now…my environment. Take in my environment._

Denzel glanced around them, wishing for a moment that he had Cloud's enhanced eyes, and then feeling ashamed of his envy as he remembered that none of Cloud's enhancements had been voluntary.

 _'Work with what you have, not what you wish you had. Go back to the beginning and think about what you want to accomplish, and then find a different way.'_

"Thank you again, Cloud-in-my-head," he muttered. And then, because he felt a little less alone just hearing his own voice, he continued to speak aloud. "Ok, what do I want to accomplish? I want to see in the dark. Magical glowy eyes are out of the question…no idea where the lantern is…probably smashed on the side of the road…fire! I have fire materia!"

Feeling energized, Denzel got to his feet. He found a thick branch that would last for a while, but he knew from experience that it wouldn't burn well by itself. He scanned the ground for something to use, mentally discarding leaves and moss and animal remains that he spotted. Finally, a tear in the hem of his shirt caught his eye. He grasped the material on one side of the tear with his repaired arm, and used his good arm to pull in the opposite direction. It tore unevenly, leaving a big half-circular patch that exposed the left side of his abdomen and back.

"Never works as well as in the movies," he grumbled. It didn't matter, though. He had his material. He grasped both ends of the cloth and twisted it tightly, and then wrapped the twisted material around the end of the branch and tied it. He set the branch on the ground and backed away. He closed his eyes and focused. He had recently leveled the materia up enough to use Fira, and he would be able to target a smaller area with that. He made his target slightly above the cloth-wrapped end of the stick and cast his spell.

"Yes!" The fire was just wide enough to reach the fabric, and it caught. The rest of the fire burned out quickly with nothing but dirt to consume. Denzel picked up the torch, pleased to find that it worked almost as well as the lantern.

The light glinted off of something, catching his eye. As he walked closer, he recognized one of Fenrir's mirrors. Examining the ground more closely, he could see the trail where the bike had skidded across the dirt. He followed it until he reached the prize.

Fenrir was looking pretty beat up, but Cloud could probably fix it. At the moment, driving it was out of the question anyway. He couldn't lift Cloud onto the bike, and he wasn't going to leave him to go get help. Even if he could, he didn't know how to drive it or where to go.

What he needed was its cargo. Denzel reached around underneath the bike until he felt the phone's clip. It was still attached to the handlebars, but the phone was not. He sighed and traced the path back again, holding the torch in front of him and crouching down to keep the tracks in sight. He finally found the phone a short distance from the skid marks. He scooped it up and examined it in the light of the torch. The screen was smashed beyond recognition, but he pressed the power button anyway. There was nothing. Not a flicker, vibration, or sound. Just dead.

"Great. Brilliant." Denzel let his head fall back and looked up at the stars, easily visible in the blackness. "Gaia, what am I supposed to do?" The stars had no answers for him. "Why is this happening to me? I'm just a kid!" The anger built along with the volume of his voice. "Tell me what to do! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?"

He raised the useless phone over his head, ready to hurl it into the woods. But as he pulled his arm back, the stupid voice in his head stopped him – the stupid voice that was Cloud and his endless lessons.

 _'Anger clouds your mind. You have to let go of it to think clearly.'_

His arm lowered slowly and a determined look came over his face. "I'm not just a kid. I'm not helpless. And Cloud needs me." He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can do this."

Denzel slid the wrecked phone into his pocket and returned to Fenrir. The rest of the cargo was surprisingly still intact, protected from the skid. He pulled out the sleeping bags first, along with the water canteen. He didn't know how long Cloud would be out, but he couldn't stand to leave him lying in the dirt like he was. And now that the adrenaline was fading, his body was starting to remember that it was the middle of the night. Maybe he could get some rest until Cloud awoke.

He brought the sleeping bags and canteen back to where Cloud lay. He dropped them and stabbed the bottom of the torch into the ground as hard as he could. It wasn't quite deep enough to hold the branch straight up, but Denzel dug a little further down with his hands, put in the branch, and packed the dirt back in around it.

"Voila," he said with a flourish. "Floor lamp."

He unrolled one of the sleeping bags next to Cloud and pondered how to get him into it. But as he put his hand on Cloud's arm, he knew that the warmth of the bag was the last thing Cloud needed. He could at least put him on top of the bag so he wasn't lying in the dirt, though.

Denzel walked around to Cloud's feet. He picked those up first and levered them onto the bag. Then he knelt down by Cloud's middle. He slid his arms underneath his back and lifted. "Ow!" His healed arm throbbed angrily. He pulled it out and attempted to lift him with his good arm alone. He managed to raise his body about an inch, but his knees slid backwards against the dirt when he tried to push him forward.

"Hm. Ok. That's not going to work. Cloud, get off your lazy butt and help me." He stared at Cloud's passive form for a few seconds and then shrugged. "It was worth a try. Hmm…maybe I can get the bag under you instead."

He reached across Cloud's body and pulled, rolling him onto his side. Once he had him in that position, he held him there with his injured arm and then reached over and pulled the sleeping bag forward. He let Cloud roll back onto his back, so now the sleeping bag was mostly underneath him. From there, he grabbed onto the slippery material under his body and shoved Cloud with his shoulder, little by little, until he was all the way on the bag. It was exhausting. "Dude, you really gotta cut back on the elphadunk chops or something," he panted.

Cloud still felt really hot. Denzel remembered once when he'd had a fever, Tifa had put a wet cloth on his forehead. Since his shirt was already ruined, it wouldn't hurt to use a little more of it. He found another small tear in the collar on the right side. He pulled at that, ripping off the cloth over his shoulder. It took the whole sleeve along with it. He carefully wet it with the water from the canteen.

He went to lay it across Cloud's head, but a drip from the cloth cut a path through the dirt on his foreheard. Denzel carefully wiped away the filth, revealing the pale skin underneath. Cloud was even whiter than usual, and he could feel the heat radiating from his face. Whatever was wrong with him, it was getting worse.

Adding a bit more cold water to the cloth after cleaning his face as well as he could, Denzel folded it and laid it across Cloud's forehead. A rustling in the bushes behind them caught his attention. They hadn't exactly chosen their camping grounds, and this one seemed far from protected in Denzel's limited experience. Relieved that at least it wasn't his sword arm that had been injured, he scrambled to his feet and unsheathed his blade. It looked like he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night after all.

* * *

Finally, Marlene had let herself sleep. Most of the surviving townspeople were inside of the town hall by then, and the critical cases had stopped trickling in. Once there were only blue swirled hankies left – although she suspected Ms. Joya had been getting more liberal with the blue ones after Marlene blearily staggered into her – she had simply curled up on her side on the floor and passed out.

She was awakened by Tifa's voice, and for a moment, she thought she was waking up in Seventh Heaven on a regular school day like any other. As her eyes came into focus, she saw the patterned tile of the town hall floor and remembered where she was. She moved her head slightly, surprised to find something soft underneath it. It was Hannah's sweater. She was covered with a fuzzy blanket that she didn't recognize.

Tifa was talking to Ms. Joya nearby. Most of the town hall had been cleared out, and they had left behind a mess. It looked like a massive party been held. The chairs had been moved into clusters in different areas of the room. Garbage was scattered everywhere, and the room reeked of blood, vomit, and body odor.

"Oh dear, I can't tell you how wonderful Marlene was today," Ms. Joya gushed. "Did we ever find out what happened to Doc Marten?"

"No," Tifa said wearily as she pushed back stray hairs that had escaped from her braid. "He must have been out of town. We couldn't reach him."

"Oh well, at least it's over now," Ms. Joya said, smiling brightly. "You got all of those monsters out of our town though, right?"

"Every last one," Tifa confirmed wearily. "There's still a lot of cleanup to do, but—"

"Don't you worry about that, dear," Ms. Joya said, patting Tifa on the arm. "You've done your part now. The rest of the town can deal with the cleanup."

Tifa looked as rough as Marlene felt. She was covered in monster guts, and she looked like she was in need of a blue hankie herself. She had a large cut extending from her hairline down to her cheekbone, narrowly missing her eye. Her other eye was sporting a shiner that was probably still swelling, and a nasty-looking bruise colored her jaw. Her clothes had been torn in several places, and she was standing in a way that kept most of her weight off of one leg. She had taken off her gloves already, exposing her cracked and bleeding knuckles, which told of more fighting than they had seen in a long time.

it's probably for the best anyway," Ms. Joya went on. "Your little girl did more than he ever could have for all those people. What a responsible, delightful young lady."

Tifa smiled over at Marlene. Finding her eyes open, she walked over, limping slightly, and knelt down next to her. "Hi sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

Without a word, Marlene reached out and rested a hand on Tifa's knee. The stream, which usually felt like sand slipping through her fingers, flowed out of her and into Tifa. This time it felt like the fingers hurt to move, like the sorest muscle she could imagine. She winced as Tifa sighed in relief and the cuts and bruises were sealed over with healthy skin.

"Thank you, honey. But you should let me do that for anyone else who needs it." Gently, she reached over and popped the materia from the girl's bracer. "You didn't answer my question. How do you feel? And how many ethers did you drink today?"

"Mm," Marlene groaned. She tried to sit up, but her arms were so weak that they barely supported her. She collapsed back onto the soft sweater. "I dunno. A lot." Her voice was hoarse.

"That's ok. You just go back to sleep," she said, scooping the girl up.

Marlene rested her head on Tifa's shoulder. She didn't even stay awake long enough to leave the building.

* * *

Cloud groaned and put his hand to his head. He had a headache that told him that his body had been furiously healing itself while he'd been out. It seemed to be a survival mechanism of the S-cells. When his body was too damaged for him to continue, it just knocked him out and went into intense healing mode. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up feeling like that, and it wouldn't be the last.

The first thing he saw was a large branch stuck in the ground. The top was charred black. The sun was high in the sky, so it had outlived its usefulness hours ago. He sat up slowly to find Denzel sitting across from him on a sleeping bag. He was watching him calmly, but his shirt looked like it had been torn apart by a rabid beast. "Denzel? What happened?"

"You had an episode," Denzel stated matter-of-factly. "We crashed."

That woke him up fast. "Oh sh—um, are you ok?"

"Yeah. Mostly." Denzel shrugged.

Cloud stood up carefully, surprised to find that he actually felt pretty good. He didn't have even the residual soreness usually left in the mako's wake. Denzel must have healed him already.

He looked over at the boy. "What do you mean by _mostly_?"

"Well. I'm not sure about Fenrir. The phone is useless. And my arm doesn't seem to be quite right," he said casually.

Cloud walked over to where Denzel sat. "What's wrong with your arm?"

Denzel held out his crooked arm. Cloud grasped his wrist, gently palpating his forearm. "Did it break?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Well you didn't set it before you healed it, so it didn't heal right," Cloud said grimly. He gently turned Denzel's wrist, examining it closely. "Jeez, how many places did you break it?"

"I don't know," Denzel said irritably. "I was busy being in pain. I wasn't up for…seeing inside my body or whatever Marlene calls it."

Cloud ran a hand through his hair. "Right. Well we're going to have to break it again, but we'll need to wait until we get back to Tifa and Marlene. You'll just have to live with it for now."

"What? You can't handle being there for it? You need the girls to do it?" Denzel teased.

Cloud gave him a pained smile. "Oh, I'll be there. I'll be the one holding you down."

Before Denzel could really process what that meant, Cloud had walked away. "Come on, help me fix this." He was collecting pieces of glass and metal from the ground as he headed to where Fenrir lay sadly in the dust.

Denzel jumped up and followed quickly behind him. "How are you gonna fix it? It looks pretty bad, Cloud."

"I guess we'll see." Cloud grinned over his shoulder. "But she's tougher than she looks."

* * *

When Marlene opened her eyes, everything ached. She was back home in her own bed. She heard the murmur of familiar voices being carried up through the vents to her room. She and Denzel had figured out many years ago that conversations held in the kitchen could clearly be heard if they sat next to the vent in their bedroom. It didn't seem that Cloud and Tifa had ever learned about it, because they continued to have not-so-private talks in the kitchen. She had heard a few other things that she preferred not to think about, too.

Her face scrunched up in pain as she pushed her stiff muscles to get her out of the bed. She hobbled over to the vent and painfully lowered herself to her knees. She immediately recognized that deep voice and her heart leapt.

"When's she gonna wake up, Tifa? I need to see my little girl!"

"You've seen her, Barret."

"I mean when she's awake. I need to know she's ok."

"I already told you. She'll be fine. It's going to take a few days, though." Tifa paused. "As near as I can tell, she drank about twenty five ethers yesterday."

" _Twenty five?!_ Are you _kidding_ me?" There was a pause. "I don't uh…actually, I don't know what that even means. What's that gonna do to her?"

Tifa sighed wearily. "Ether restores the mind and spirit by taking energy from other places in the body. Everyone has some reserves, but once you deplete the extra energy, it starts being taken from any place it can be found. Bones, muscles, blood…and eventually organs. Normally, the body has enough reserve for about two ethers."

"Why can't you just cure her?" Barret demanded.

"Cure only helps to mend wounds. This is more like a lack of resources. It's going to take time to rebuild them."

"Okay…" Barret spoke thoughtfully. "And that nasty drink you made for her is supposed to help that?"

"Yeah, it'll replenish some of the nutrients and things she lost. But she can only absorb so much at a time."

"But…she _will_ be back to normal. Eventually. Right?" Barret's voice was pleading.

Tifa didn't answer right away. Finally, she said, "probably."

"Tifa!" Barret boomed. "How could you let her do that?!"

Tifa sounded furious. " _Let_ her? Are you kidding me? I was out there fighting, just like you were, except a whole lot longer. She's not a baby anymore, Barret! I can't stand over her and make sure she doesn't put things from the floor in her mouth! She's 12 years old, she's very capable, and she was doing her part to help, just like the rest of us. And sometimes…" her voice softened. "Sometimes, doing your part means you have to make sacrifices."

Barret's heavy boots thumped across the floor below. They reached the end of the kitchen and thumped back again. "She's too young to be making sacrifices, Teef." His voice cracked.

"I know," Tifa said. "And maybe she won't have to. She's young. She could bounce back from this. She saved a lot of lives, Barret. She did the right thing, even if it's hard for us to accept the price."

"Yeah. You're right," Barret said gruffly. "She's a good girl. You done a good job raising her."

There was dead silence in the kitchen. It was the first time Barret had ever admitted that he had left Marlene under someone else's care for so long that he couldn't claim to be actually raising her anymore. It must have been hard for him to say. He was the last one to really accept it.

"Barret –" Tifa started.

A thump against the kitchen door interrupted their conversation as someone else entered.

"Tifa." It was Cid. "Some guy just banged on the door and said somethin' about a town meeting. You goin'?"

Tifa groaned. "Yeah. I don't want to, but I have to. I know I'm just going to spend the whole stupid time defending why Cloud wasn't here to stop this."

Cid laughed incredulously. "Seriously? What is he, like their personal town guardian?"

"Some of them seem to think so. At least they can't blame him for attracting the monsters this time," Tifa muttered.

"You serious? They're tryin' to blame Cloud for all this?" Cid sputtered. "Tifa, you gotta do somethin' about this! No, _I'm_ gonna do somethin'. I'm comin' with you to that meeting."

"Cid," Tifa said sharply, "I've got it under control."

"Clearly you _don't_ ," Cid insisted. "Obviously being polite and respectable ain't cuttin' it with this group."

"And you really think a profanity-laced tirade is the way to convince them?"

"Maybe," Cid said staunchly. "I know you gotta act all civil since you gotta live with these people, but I don't. I can just tell 'em what I really think."

Tifa sighed. "I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?" she asked finally. "Fine. You can come with, but please let me try my way first." Tifa's light footsteps crossed the kitchen. "Barret, can you take this up to Marlene? She needs to wake up to drink it now. But don't stay too long. She's going to tire easily."

"What? You wan' _me_ to be the one to make her drink that sewage?" Barret asked.

"It might go a little easier if you don't call it 'sewage' in front of Marlene," Tifa said irritably. "She needs it. Man up, Barret."

"What did you…aww that's…you're jes lucky that –"

"That what, Barret?" Tifa asked, a challenge clear in her tone. Marlene stifled a giggle, knowing that Barret was getting one of Tifa's patented _looks_ that he never could stand up to.

"Jes that…" his words faded into mumbles.

"That's what I thought," Tifa said. "Cid, let's go. Barret, bring that up before it gets any later. I'll make her another one in 4 hours."

Marlene was surprised to find that she was too weak to jump up as she usually would have. She braced herself on the wall and stood up slowly. Man, she was really worn out. She shuffled carefully over to the bed and sat down, trying to make herself look alert and comfortable before Barret made it up the stairs. She was just getting settled when the door creaked open and Barret's big head poked through the opening.

Seeing her awake and sitting up, Barret pushed the door open the rest of the way with a big grin. "There's my baby girl! I brought you a…uh…delicious shake!" He held out the thick, lumpy green concoction.

"Delicious shake," Marlene said skeptically as she took it from him. Her hand shook as she held the glass, and she quickly brought up her other hand to help, hoping Barret hadn't noticed. The slight lowering of his brows told her that he had.

"Well, Tifa made it, so it's gotta be, right?" Barret said, but he couldn't look her in the eye.

Marlene sniffed the suspicious drink and wrinkled her nose. It smelled like sour milk mixed with moldy vegetables. "You know, Daddy, I'm not four. You can't trick me into thinking my lima beans are veggie-flavored ice cream anymore."

Barret chuckled fondly. "I know, baby girl. Truth is, it might not taste great, but Tifa says you need it to get your strength back." He stroked her hair with one giant hand. "I heard you were the hero of the day out there."

Marlene shrugged. "I guess I was the only person who could use materia and couldn't fight. I wish I could be like Tifa. She can do _every_ thing."

"Naw, don't be doin' that. You did more than anyone to get this town through this." Barret leaned his forehead against hers. "There's a whole lot more to a battle than jes fightin'."

A small smile appeared on her face.

Barret sat back and gestured to the glass in her hands. "Enough talkin' now. Plug yer nose and chug it down."

* * *

Marlene was determined to get down the stairs the next morning. She'd made a few trips around her tiny room and been tired out yesterday, but she was bored out of her mind and needed some real stimulation. Visiting with whoever delivered Tifa's horrid nutrition shakes every four hours just wasn't cutting it for her, especially since she she spent a good portion of that time trying not to throw it back up.

She shuffled over to her dresser and pulled open a drawer. She grabbed the first clothes she saw, paying no attention to what they were. She made her way back to the bed and sat down to get dressed. She was obviously still weak and sore, but she refused to sit and stare out the window for another day. Slowly, she pulled on the pants. They were much too big. Most of her clothes were handed down from distant family members or procured from charities, so she was used to ill-fitting garments, but these pants threatened to expose her lacy white underwear if she so much as sneezed.

It had actually taken quite a lot of effort to get them on though, and she didn't have the energy to start the process over again. Instead, she slid a belt through the loops and cinched it tight. She carefully slid the shirt over her head against the objections of her muscles. It was pretty baggy too, but it was good enough for home.

She put her feet down on the cold floor. She had forgotten to grab socks when she was at her dresser, too. She shifted her weight onto her feet and began taking small, slow steps to the door. As she passed her vanity, the mirror caught her eye and she gasped out loud. She leaned closer, tracing a finger over the features that should have been familiar. Her usually rounded cheeks looked hollow. Deep purple rings under her eyes made them even more prominent than usual. Her skin was pale and papery, and her brown hair hung limply around her face. With a shaking hand, she reached out to the purple headband on her vanity and slid it into her hair, hoping for some familiarity. She felt slightly better with the hair out of her face, but the sharp angles of her jaw were only more pronounced. She looked like a shrunken version of the healthy girl she used to see in the mirror.

She decided she didn't care. She wasn't a vain person, after all; she'd just been shocked by her reflection. She used the surface of the vanity to push off and get moving toward the door again. Everything ached, but at least she had a little more strength today. She grasped the railing at the top of the stairs and slowly made her way down. Tifa was in the kitchen tending to a couple of large sizzling pans. Yuffie chopped up a variety of fruit on the counter with her shuriken. Marlene hoped she'd bothered to wash it first.

Yuffie glanced up as Marlene reached the bottom. "Hey kiddo! How ya feeling?" Her attempt at a casual question didn't hide the shock that had flashed across her face when she got her first look at Marlene.

"I'm fine. Great," she said cheerfully. "Do you need any help, Tifa?"

"Oh no, sweetheart," Tifa said with a smile. "You go sit down out in the bar. We've got the whole crew with us for breakfast today!"

"Ok," Marlene said, trying to walk as normally as possible out to the bar area.

"Still nothing on his phone." Barret's deep voice welcomed her as she opened the swinging door. He looked over in surprise, quickly stashing his phone. "Well good mornin', baby girl." He rushed over and pulled out a chair for her, as if she were a lady or an invalid.

Marlene was guessing the latter, but she smiled sweetly as she sat. Vincent and Cid were already seated at the table, Cid with a cigarette tucked in the corner of his lips. He set it down in the ashtray and squinted through the smoke at Marlene.

"You look like hell, girl," Cid drawled, blunt as usual.

"Cid! Do you need another hole in your—"

"It's fine, Daddy," Marlene interrupted smoothly. "I guess I went a little overboard with the materia," she said to Cid.

Cid nodded with approval. "No reason to be ashamed of battle wounds, girl. You earned your stripes the other day."

Barret looked mollified, although he didn't take his eyes off of Cid.

Vincent nodded, solemn as usual. "Yes, I think you can officially call yourself part of Cloud's crew, now."

Barret scowled. Although he had eventually accepted Cloud as the leader of their little group, it was no secret that he had grudgingly given up the reigns.

Marlene looked around the bar, which was empty besides the four of them. "Where is Cloud, anyway? And Denzel?"

The three men exchanged glances. "They're just…uh...well…" Barret waffled.

"They ain't home yet," Cid announced. "And they're not answering the phone."

Barret shot a glare at Cid. "Ya didn't hafta—"

They all turned to look as the front door opened. Then their gazes lowered to see the four-legged animal pushing through. Nanaki padded across the floor and climbed up on a chair at the table. Marlene never could get used to seeing him sitting at the dinner table like a person.

"Good morning," he said calmly. He didn't even give Marlene a second look. "Any news on Cloud?

Barret gave up on trying to protect Marlene from hearing too much. "No, no news."

Tifa walked through the swinging door a moment later with an aromatic platter of sausages, along with heaping plates of eggs and french toast. Yuffie followed behind, her arms loaded with milk, juice, various condiments, and a large bowl of mixed fruit.

"Oh good, everyone's here," Tifa said, but she didn't hide the weariness in her tone. She took her seat and glanced around at everyone, lingering on Marlene.

Everyone began dishing up, but their usual good-natured ribbing was absent. Marlene remembered the last time they had all gotten together. Cloud had tried to hoard a bunch of meat, Barret had yelled at him, and Yuffie had used their distraction to see how much she could pickpocket from the others. She always gave it back, but she enjoyed the challenge, just to see if she still could.

Now the dishes were all passed around in near-silence. The only verbal interaction was between Vincent and Nanaki, as Vincent dished up for the beast without opposable thumbs. Otherwise there was only the sound of spoons clanking against bowls, food plopping on plates, and liquid sloshing in glasses. Marlene waited for the obvious topic of conversation to arise, but after the silence stretched on too long, she decided to bring it up herself.

"So, how are we going to find Cloud and Denzel?"

The adults froze and looked around at each other, silent for a moment.

"I'm sure everything's fine. This is _Cloud_ we're talking about," Yuffie's flippant comment finally came. "Maybe he just decided to take a scenic route or something."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Don't be an idiot, Yuffie," she scoffed. "He knew we were in trouble. He said he'd be home as fast as he could."

Yuffie just gaped at her. Marlene was normally such a sweet girl, and she didn't look like she had enough energy to verbally spar with her; Yuffie couldn't even summon a snarky retort.

"Maybe we should wait a bit longer before we get too concerned," Nanaki suggested calmly.

"No," Tifa said grimly. "He should have been here over 24 hours ago. He's not answering his phone. Marlene's right. Something's wrong and we can't just sit around and do nothing."

Dropping her fork, she got up and went behind the bar, pulling out a rolled-up map. It was made of a flexible plastic, and almost every inch of it had been covered with erasable marker at some time or another. She pinned it against the wall where they could all see it from the table. There was a black line stretching almost from the southwest to the northeast corner. It was relatively straight, although it curved around some geographical obstacles, and the section near the end of the trail appeared to follow a spiral up a mountain. The trail was marked with the distance every 1000 miles, and appeared to have increments of about 100 miles marked between them.

Tifa traced the black line with her finger. "This was the route Cloud mapped out for him and Denzel. The last time I talked to him, he said they were over a day out. Knowing Cloud's driving patterns, that probably put them between 1000 and 1200 miles from home." She marked two spots along the path. "I could hear a river in the background. Within those 200 miles, there are two parts of his route that are close enough to consider stopping at the river – here and here." She picked up a yellow marker and drew two circles within that area, each tangential to the path and the river. "That last contact was 48 hours ago."

"So," Yuffie gulped down a mouthful of food, "then we just have to search along that path? That's not so bad."

"Not quite," Tifa said, turning back to the map. "This route is only certain as long as they were on Fenrir. If something happened to the motorcycle, but they're still able to walk, they would have to find a way to get to the nearest town or at least drivable road for help." Tifa picked up a green marker and peered closely at the map, marking the nearest visible roads and towns to their route.

"These are all really small towns, and the farther they are from Midgar, the less likely they are to have phone service," Tifa said as she drew. "So we can't rule those out as a possibility."

"What do you want us to do, Tifa?" Barret rumbled. "I've already driven out as far as my truck can go along their route. I ain't drivin' it through the forest."

"No, I know you can't. I think we can assume they're not along that stretch of road today. There's enough traffic and enough people with phones that we'd know if they made it this far." Tifa indicated the green lines on the map. "We need to check these alternate routes. They're most likely to be on one of these roads if they needed outside help, but they could be anywhere in between. In some of these places, the road is pretty far from their route and it would take some time to get there."

She looked over to make sure she still had everyone's attention. "We're going to start our search at the point where the Midgar passable roads diverge and Cloud's path splits off into the wilderness, so that will cut off about 150 miles." She drew a flag at the place she had indicated. "Barret, Vincent, and Nanaki will ride together in Barret's truck and split up from there."

Nanaki let out a huff. Tifa gave him a sympathetic smile. "Nanaki, you can ride in the bed of the truck. You won't be trapped inside like you are in my car."

Tifa turned back to the map. "Barret, I need you to follow route A. Stop at any towns or houses you see along the way and ask around. Do your…you know…scary, intimidating thing if you need it to get information."

Barret nodded. "Got it."

"Vincent, I want you to do a flyover of route B. Same thing – stop at any houses or towns along the way and see if anyone has seen them."

Vincent nodded. "Of course."

"Nanaki, at the place where the path diverges, you can follow Cloud's route and see if their scent gets stronger anywhere. We'll put that pouch around your neck with the phone in it and keep an open connection between you and Cid. Yuffie and I will be on chocobo. I'll be halfway between their path and route A, and Yuffie will be halfway between the path and route B, so we'll be on either side of you the whole time."

Yuffie and Nanaki nodded their understanding.

"And Cid. I want you in the airship scanning the whole area. You'll be the point of contact, so if anyone sees anything, they call you. You call everyone else."

She turned to the rest of the group. "Everyone clear on what they're doing?" Five heads nodded back at her.

"Um, Tifa?" Marlene spoke up, sounding stronger than she expected. "What about me?"

"Nuh uh," Barret said, crossing his arms stubbornly. "You gotta stay here and rest, baby girl."

"Tifa?" Marlene implored.

Barret looked like he'd been slapped. He blinked and looked down at his cooling breakfast.

Tifa's eyes met the frail little girl's. She ran a hand over the back of her limp brown hair. "I need you to be here in case Cloud or Denzel calls. Same rules apply for you, ok? If you hear anything, you call Cid and he'll spread the word."

Marlene gave an accepting sigh. It wasn't an _important_ role, but she told herself that Tifa wasn't treating her like a child. Someone did need to be there to answer the phone, and if not her, someone else would have to do it. Tifa was entrusting it to her, even though she was weak and tired. At least Tifa hadn't just told her to rest like Barret had. At least she hadn't insisted on someone staying behind to watch her.

Five phones buzzed, beeped, and vibrated at once. "I've just texted you all the coordinates where we'll meet up with the airship at 7 pm, if we haven't found them by then," Tifa said. "In a minute I'll be individually texting you the coordinates that are your responsibility to cover. There are lunches packed for everyone in the fridge, so you can grab it before you go. Finish eating breakfast, make sure your phones are charged, gas tanks are full, and chocobos are ready. We leave in one hour."

* * *

There was only one mechanic in Kilne. A patch stuck to the front of his greasy coveralls proclaimed his name as "Carl" in curly script. He was short and muscular, much like Cloud, but more compact. He was also arrogant, and it was really rubbing Cloud the wrong way.

"Are you kidding me?" Cloud asked irritably. "Why would it take 5 days just to replace—"

"Look, buddy," stated the mechanic condescendingly, "do you know how hard it is to get parts in Kilne? I already told ya we don't have phones out here. How do ya think we get parts? We gotta drive all the way to Arnold, Madora, sometimes all the way to the city—"

"Fine, forget it," Cloud sighed. "Is there anyone with a truck in town? Maybe we can find someone who will drive us back to Edge. I can get it fixed later."

"Just one." Carl smirked. "That'd be Manny."

"Ok, great," Cloud said. "Where can I find Manny?"

"He lives about two miles to the east, out in the country. I s'pose you can leave yer bike here for now, and I'll give ya a lift to Manny's place…for a fee."

"Thanks," Cloud said shortly, "but we'll take it with us. We don't have time to waste coming back for it."

"With those bent handlebars and axle on the country roads? That's more trouble than it's worth, son. For a few gil you can—"

"We'll manage," Denzel said, softening it with a smile. He could see Cloud was near the end of his rope with this guy. It was strange, really. Cloud hardly ever showed emotion, and it was extremely rare for him to lose his temper, but he'd been acting different during this whole trip.

Carl shrugged. "Suit yerself."

Cloud walked the bike out of the garage, barely clearing the doorway before starting it up and climbing on. Denzel scrambled on behind him.

Fenrir had absolutely no interest in getting them home in a hurry. It took 15 minutes to reach Manny's farm as they puttered along, fighting against the axle, and they sunk into several inches of mud before reaching the farmhouse. Cloud groaned, turned off the engine, and swung his leg over the seat. His boots squelched in the sticky mud as he walked quickly up to the front door. He hammered impatiently on the peeled and faded wood. After a few minutes of knocking, their trip was starting to look like a total loss.

Denzel was dreading Cloud's reaction already. He scanned the area around them and caught a flash of movement over by the open barn door.

"Hey Cloud!" Denzel yelled, already running toward the barn. "I think he's in here!"

Running wasn't easy with the mud clinging to his boots like cement, but Denzel got there as fast as he could. He spotted a stooped figure in a checkered flannel shirt, slowly shoveling hay with a pitchfork.

"Excuse me!" he called. "Are you Manny?"

The figure turned slowly and removed his woven straw hat. "Oh. Hello there. How can I help you, young man?"

The man spoke as slowly as he moved. He looked ancient. Tiny eyes were sunken into the deep, craggy lines of his face. His hands were liver spotted. Denzel wondered how fit a man his age could be for farm work.

Cloud appeared behind Denzel, saving him from having to explain their dilemma. The old man's eyes lit up when he spotted him. "Hey. You're Cloud Strife, aren't you?"

A familiar look of dismay crossed Cloud's face. "Uh. Yeah. I guess so."

But they were stranded, relying on the kindness of strangers to get them home. Denzel knew that they could use this to their advantage. "Actually, Manny, he's in the middle of a critical mission, and he really needs your help."

Manny's face spread into a slow smile. "Well I'll be darned," he said, clapping his hat back onto his head. "Anything I can do for the hero of Midgar would be an honor."

"Er…right," Cloud said uncertainly. "Well, we had a little trouble with my motorcycle. We need to get back to Midgar in a hurry, and Carl at the shop says you might be willing to give us a lift back to Edge."

"Edge?" Manny asked, scratching the back of his head. "Edge of what?"

"Umm, the edge of Midgar, actually."

"Midgar?" Manny looked even more confused. "Midgar got smashed by that giant meteor, son."

"Yeah, I know," Cloud said impatiently. "It's built on the edge of the Midgar ruins. Look, we're really in a hurry, so…"

"Oh, sure, of course," Manny agreed, nodding emphatically. "Would you like some tea?"

"No. Thank you," Cloud said, trying not to let his irritation show through his voice. "We need to get home. So would you be able to give us a lift? We'd need to put the motorcycle in the back of your truck."

"Oh?" the old man asked. "If you have a motorcycle, it would probably be a mite faster than Ol' Bessie."

"Yeah," Cloud snapped. "But it's broken. That's why we need a lift from someone with a truck."

"A truck," Manny pondered slowly. "I have a truck! I call 'er Ol' Bessie." His wrinkles split into a smile again.

Denzel could practically see the steam coming from Cloud's ears. He took a step forward and took Manny's hand, gently pulling him toward the farmhouse. "Manny, do you think you could bring us and the motorcycle to the ruins of Midgar in Ol' Bessie? Cloud Strife has an important mission there." He hoped that if he said everything at once, the old man would be able to keep up with the conversation.

"Cloud Strife? Why, he saved our whole planet once!"

"Yes, he did," Denzel said calmly, continuing to pull Manny toward the house. "And you can help him, if you can drive us to the Midgar ruins in Ol' Bessie."

"Oh, why certainly!" Manny said. "Let me just get my keys." With that, he continued on toward the house, muttering to himself. "I'm going to help the hero of Midgar. It's an important mission!"

Cloud pushed a hand through his blond spikes. "Thanks, Denzel. I thought I was gonna lose my mind talking to him."

"No problem," Denzel said with a grin. "I saw the truck around the side of the barn. Maybe we should get Fenrir loaded up while he's getting his keys."

Cloud went back to Fenrir and walked it around the side of the barn. They both eyed the truck doubtfully. It looked like it might have been Manny's first truck, about 80 years ago.

"Are you sure this thing still runs?" Cloud asked.

"Well…Carl sent us out here, so he must have a working truck, right?" Denzel circled the vehicle, wondering if it was possible that Manny had a different one. "Oh, wait! There's tire tracks in the mud here. So it must work."

"Yeah, alright," Cloud sighed. "I'll get it put into the back. Maybe you should check on Manny and make sure he hasn't forgotten what he was doing."

Manny _had_ forgotten. After pulling off his mud-caked boots in the entryway, Denzel found him in the kitchen, in the middle of making himself a sandwich.

After several more gentle nudges and reminders, Manny located his keys and shoes and coat and glasses and driving gloves and seat cushion and was finally out the front door. The three men made their way over to the ancient truck at a glacial pace. They climbed into the cab and Manny spent another couple minutes adjusting the seat and the mirrors and checking the glove compartment and cleaning the windshield. Finally, he turned over the ignition, and Ol' Bessie grudgingly started up.

Just as Manny released the parking brake and put his hand on the gear stick, a small car pulled up into the driveway. "Oh look, Chase is here! Maybe Chase should drive you. You know I'm not as sharp as I used to be." He put the parking brake on again.

"So close," Denzel murmured.

Cloud thunked his head against the window.

Manny rolled down the driver's side window as a tall, skinny man in khaki slacks and a button-down shirt stalked up to the truck. His jet black hair had enough gel for an entire month, which gave Denzel the distinct impression of a sleaze ball. He had a look on his face like there was something nasty-smelling right under his nose.

"Hey!" he demanded. "What do you think you're doing, Pops?"

"Hello, Chase! I was just bringing these nice boys to…" he looked over at Cloud. "Where were we going again?"

Cloud looked past Manny to address the younger man. "We crashed my motorcycle and we need to get back to Midgar Edge. It's an emergency. Manny here agreed to drive us. We'll be happy to pay him for his help."

Chase snorted. "I hope you're not in much of a hurry for this _emergency_. Ol' Bessie can't go any faster than 30 miles per hour." He shrugged. "It's good enough for Pops."

Manny nodded serenely.

Cloud looked like he was about to explode as he pushed open the door of the ancient truck. He got out and walked around the other side to Chase. "Look, it's really important that we get home immediately. Is there any way you would be willing to drive us to Midgar in your car? I know it's a long way, but I'll pay you 5000 gil. If you could store my bike for a few days, we could come back and pick it up."

Chase smiled. Somehow, that made him look even slimier. He put an arm around Cloud's shoulder and led him away from the truck. Denzel trailed behind them, listening in. "How about you give me your old busted-up bike, and you can keep the car."

"Are you nuts?!" Cloud jerked away from the greasy man. "That car isn't even worth 2000. My bike is a one-of-a-kind custom made—"

"That bike is practically scrap metal right now," Chase argued.

"No. No way. It's not for sale. Look, I'll give you 5000 now and another 5000 when we get to Edge, and then we'll come back for the bike."

Denzel couldn't help wondering where Cloud even planned to get that kind of money, but it wasn't the time to ask.

Chase laughed and shook his head. "I told you my offer. That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

Denzel knew Cloud would never give up Fenrir. That machine was his pride and joy. It was a necessity for his livelihood. It was as much a part of him as his sword.

"Fine."

Denzel's jaw hit the floor.

Cloud gritted his teeth. "Denzel, let's get our stuff off of it and go." He strode off toward Fenrir and began unloading their cargo.

Denzel hurried after him and climbed onto the bed of Ol' Bessie to help him with their bags. "Cloud, are you serious? You can't give up Fenrir! It's…it's Fenrir!"

Cloud looked like he was having trouble holding it together, but he doggedly continued opening the compartments and pulling out their things. It was astounding how much he carried in that one little machine. It was like a clown car. He was accumulating a huge pile of belongings next to him.

"It's not Tifa and Marlene," Cloud said quietly.

He opened the last compartment and pulled out Tsurugi. He quickly assembled the sword and slipped it into the harness on his back. He turned around to face the men who stood and watched them – Chase with a smug grin, Manny with oblivious serenity. Manny beamed at Cloud when he saw him with the sword. It _did_ seem more like his natural state. Denzel always thought Cloud looked incomplete without his sword, like a puzzle with a missing piece.

Fenrir was another piece of him. Denzel shot daggers at Chase with his eyes. That man had no idea what he was taking from Cloud. He only knew that he wanted that bike and that Cloud was backed into a corner. If there was one thing Denzel had learned from the destruction of Midgar, it was that he despised people who took advantage of another's hardship. All of that hate was currently aimed at the man who had smugly stood there and watched as they unloaded the machine. But it was replaced with a surge of satisfaction when Chase stumbled backwards and fell over his own feet into the thick mud. He stared with wide eyes at the man in the red cloak who had materialized beside him.

A smile spread across Denzel's face. "Vincent!"

* * *

Author's note - I don't usually do this, but I wanted to say thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed so far. It's a huge encouragement to me when I get stuck or frustrated!

Writing this story has been really challenging for me for a few reasons. First, I'm writing this almost entirely from the perspective of Denzel and Marlene, and it's been a *few* years since I was a pre-teen, so I'm not sure I remember how kids think at that age.

Second, I wrote this at the request of my 10 year old son. Since I'm writing it for him to read, I have to keep it PG and keep it from getting too deep, which the writer part of my brain keeps fighting against.

Flirting with the edges of the Nibelheim mansion story is really making me itch to write that story, but I can't go into much detail in this one because what happens in that mansion would be really dark and definitely not PG. So I have a question for you, my readers: would you like to read something a little darker from me? Or prefer the lighter, family-type stuff? Let me know in the reviews or a PM and I'll decide what to write next. Thanks for your support!


	8. Chapter 8 - Guilty

**Chapter 8 – Guilty**

"Vincent!" Cloud blinked in shock at the red-cloaked man before him. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Vincent said calmly, ignoring the man stuttering in the mud at his side. "Tifa organized a search party when we couldn't reach you." He looked Cloud and Denzel up and down. "Are you all right?"

"We're fine," Cloud said. "Just had a little…uh…bike trouble."

"I see," Vincent said. He pulled a sleek phone from the inside of his cloak and pressed a few numbers. "Cid. I found them. They're unharmed."

Cid's loud, coarse voice carried through the phone so they could all clearly hear. _"Well then why in the blazes did we need a &!#$ rescue mission?"_

"I'm sure Cloud will explain later. Are you coming to get us?"

 _"Yeah, yeah, I guess so. You got room for me to land?"_

Vincent glanced around at the open landscape. "Yes."

 _"Fine. Send me the coordinates."_ A loud click indicated that Cid was done talking.

Vincent pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed on the screen experimentally. "How do I get the…I need to send Cid our coordinates."

Denzel suppressed his smile. "I'll do it," he offered. Vincent gratefully handed over the phone. He had finally gotten the hang of making and receiving phone calls, but the rest of the technology still seemed to be over his head.

"Vincent." Vincent's eyes shifted back to Cloud. "Does that mean that things are ok in Edge? Are Tifa and Marlene safe?"

Vincent gave a non-committal grunt. "They survived. Edge is…well…you'll have to see for yourself. But the threat has been averted for now."

The guilt and worry that had been weighing down Denzel was finally lifted from his shoulders. Cloud jumped back up on the bed of Ol' Bessie and started repacking their possessions in Fenrir's myriad compartments.

"Hey, hey! What are you doing?" Chase had finally recovered and pulled himself back up to his feet.

Cloud didn't bother to look up as he continued loading the bike. "Deal's off, Chase. You can keep your car. I've got a ride."

Chase tried to puff out his chest, but with his disheveled appearance, he just looked foolish. His formerly pristine clothes hung down from the weight of the thick mud that now coated most of his body.

"Well. I hope your _ride_ has a way to carry that hunk of metal, because if you leave it here—" His eyes grew comically wide as they looked over Cloud's shoulder. Cloud didn't have to look behind him to know that the giant, graceful airship was being lowered slowly to the ground.

He smirked at Chase. "Don't worry. We've got it covered." Having finished with his repacking, Cloud hopped down from the bed of the truck and picked up Fenrir as if it were no more significant than a pillow. Denzel smothered a snicker at Chase's flabbergasted expression as Cloud brought it over to the airship, where a hydraulic hiss accompanied the lowering of the ramp. Vincent glided along behind him, his pointed shoes slipping through the mud effortlessly.

Denzel was relieved to finally be on his way home, but his distaste for the muddy, slick man hadn't faded much. He couldn't resist getting in one last jab. "Well, looks like you dodged a bullet there, Chase. You would never have been able to drive that bike, anyway. It's too heavy for anyone but Cloud to hold up."

As he spoke the words, a connection clicked into place in his head. That was why Cloud had never bothered to teach him to drive it. Denzel could never have held it up at a stop. He couldn't really blame Cloud for never imagining they'd find themselves in a scenario like the one last night.

Chase's face contorted with confusion. He looked like he was trying to work something out in his head. "Cloud….?"

Manny piped up, "Cloud Strife! Didn't you recognize him?" In all the excitement, Denzel had almost forgotten the old man was still there.

Cloud's footsteps echoed as he came back down the ramp of the airship. He approached Manny and held out his hand. "Thanks for everything, Manny."

Manny took his hand, but shook his head. "But I didn't do anything."

Cloud gave him a small smile. "I know, but you were willing. So…thanks."

"Cloud?" Chase said tentatively. "I uh…I didn't know…I mean, I would never have tried to, you know, if I would've known that you were…uh…you."

Denzel crossed his arms and scoffed. "It shouldn't matter. You shouldn't try to take advantage of people when they're down, no matter who they are."

Cloud raised his eyebrows and shrugged a shoulder. "He's got a point."

Chase dropped his head like a scolded puppy. "I know. You're right. I uh…I'm sorry."

Cloud looked at him for a moment longer, as if measuring his sincerity. Then he nodded. "Forget it."

Cid's voice blared through the external speakers on the ship. "Yo! You ladies about done with your tea party? Let's get this show on the road!"

Cloud and Denzel gave one last wave as they boarded the airship. Cloud smiled over at Denzel as the ramp closed behind them. "Ready to go home?"

Denzel beamed back at him. "More than ready."

When they reached the bridge, Cid was muttering about mud on the landing gear and how long it was going to take him to clean off everything when they got back. Denzel smiled. He loved the crotchety old man and his constant stream of grumbling. It seemed ironic that Cid's anger always seemed to cheer Denzel up.

They flew to the rendezvous point where Cid had directed everyone to meet them. He set down the ship in a large clearing of grass. Denzel was anxious to see everyone, but they were the first ones there. He hopped out anyway and paced around in the grass. He was really going to miss all this green when they got back to Midgar.

Tifa was the first to arrive, charging in on her chocobo. She hopped off and ran to Denzel, sweeping him up in a hug. For the second she held him, Denzel was too startled to react. Then she pulled back and put her hands on his upper arms, looking him over for injuries.

"Denzel, are you ok? I've been so worried!"

Denzel smiled, hoping to ease some of the lines on Tifa's face. "Yeah, Tifa. I'm good. What about you? Last time you talked to Cloud, Edge was overrun with monsters."

"Oh. Yeah." Tifa released him and ran a hand through her hair nervously. "Well there's some cleanup and rebuilding to do, but we cleared them all out." She put her hands on her hips. "Speaking of Cloud, where is he?"

Denzel nodded over her shoulder, where Cloud stood with his hands in his pockets. He was watching them uncertainly, as if waiting to find out if he were in trouble. Marlene used to roll her eyes and say "Cloud feels guilty for _existing_." Finally, Denzel understood that. There were many layers to Cloud, and he was a little ashamed that it had taken him so long to see past the top few. Marlene was much more intuitive about those kinds of things; he thought that maybe she had figured out a lot of things about Cloud long ago.

But Cloud had no reason to be worried now. Tifa ran to him and flung her arms around his neck. The tension relaxed from his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her and turned his face into her hair.

"Tifa. I'm so sorry. We tried to get home, but I—"

"Shh. I know, Cloud. I know."

Denzel felt like he was intruding on a private moment. He turned his back and walked the other way, letting them have their extended greeting. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his face. Almost immediately, his moment of peace was interrupted as Yuffie came charging into the clearing on her chocobo with an excited scream. "Cloud! Denny!" She unabashedly pushed her way into Cloud and Tifa's embrace, completely oblivious to the moment she was interrupting. "Omigosh I am SO glad to see you guys!" Cloud endured it with a tolerant snort and Tifa gracefully stepped back, covering a smile behind her hand. She was used to the little ninja's antics.

Yuffie released Cloud and ran over to Denzel. She tackled him with a hug, knocking them both backwards onto the grass.

"Jeez Yuf! Were you trying to make sure I was injured before we got home?" Denzel sputtered.

She laughed and ruffled his hair, making it stand up in every direction. "Oh c'mon, Denny! I know you're tougher than that!"

She was the only one who called him Denny, and he _hated_ it. She seemed to think it would catch on, and two years without a single other person using that name didn't do a thing to dampen her enthusiasm. He couldn't really stay mad, though. Yuffie was like an eternal child – a deadly ninja child who liked to play with sharp objects.

As Denzel stood and brushed off his clothes, he realized that Yuffie had actually _not_ been the first one to arrive after Tifa. Nanaki sat by a tree on the edge of the clearing, swishing his fiery tail. At least he'd had enough common sense to respect Cloud and Tifa's space. But now that the Yuffie-nado had torn through and overturned everything, he approached the group. "I'm glad to see you are both safe," he said with a nod of his head.

"Hey, Red," Cloud said with a smile. "Good to see you."

Vincent and Cid finally came down from the ship to greet everyone. Barret was the last to arrive in his truck. He stopped and leaned out the open window. "Yo, Spikey! You still alive?"

"Hey Barret," Cloud responded casually. "You still annoying?"

Barret just laughed and turned off the truck. He bounded out the door and joined the group. "Anyone got any food? I'm starving!"

Tifa scowled at him. "What happened to the lunch I packed?"

Barret scratched his head with his metal hand. "Huh? Oh, it was delicious. But that was like 3 hours ago!"

Tifa scoffed and shook her head.

"What?" Barret defended. "I'm a growing boy!"

Yuffie bounced over. "Yeah ya are," she said, patting his belly. It was hard not to notice that Barret had put on a few pounds over the last couple years. He spent more time doing paperwork than push-ups these days.

"Aww, don't be jealous," Barret said, patting her on the head in return. "You'll grow up someday, pipsqueak."

Yuffie scowled and brushed away his hand.

Denzel looked around at everyone, happy to be together again, happy that everyone was safe. But – "Where's Marlene?"

"She's back at Seventh Heaven," Tifa said. She wouldn't look him in the eye, though, and Denzel had the sneaking suspicion that she was hiding something.

Cloud took charge again. "Alright then, let's mosey. Cid, lower the cargo ramp for Barret and the chocobos and we can go back together."

"Hey Denny," Yuffie said as she bounced up the other ramp next to Denzel. "You're wearing the new sword! Did you show Cloud how a real man uses that thing?"

Denzel laughed out loud. "Something like that. I did get to do a lot of fighting on this trip."

"Really?" Yuffie said excitedly. "Ohhh do tell! I bet you have some great stories."

As they returned to the bridge and Cid lifted off, Cloud and Tifa were conspicuously absent. Denzel took the opportunity to regale the others with his tale of the downhill battle on Fenrir in great detail. His audience oohed and ahhed and cheered at all the right places.

"Well dang, Denzel," Cid drawled when he was done. "Sounds like you and Marlene are both turning into some real good fighters. Guess you're the next generation of Cloud's crew. This one's gettin' old."

"Hey! Speak for yourself!" Yuffie said indignantly. Nanaki growled in agreement.

"What do you mean?" Denzel asked. "What did Marlene do?"

Cid gave him a big tobacco-stained grin. "Well, I dunno if she can fight, but that girl sure can use materia. She saved the lives of half the town this week!"

Denzel felt a surge of pride for his little sis. She really did have some talent.

A warm hand stroked down the back of his head and came to rest on his neck. He turned around to see Tifa with a characteristic look of concern on her face. She and Cloud must have snuck back on the bridge when Cid was talking.

"You look really tired," she said. "Have you been sleeping ok on this trip?"

"Oh," Denzel said. "Yeah, I didn't get to sleep any last night. Cloud was out of it and we weren't camped at the safest place."

Five pairs of eyes snapped to Cloud. Cloud, however, was looking at Denzel. "You fought off monsters to protect me all night?"

"Um, yeah," Denzel said, feeling suddenly shy, especially at the look of pride on Cloud's face. He didn't want to make it sound like more than it was. The night was half over by the time they crashed, and there were only a handful of stragglers that stumbled across their campsite.

Cloud gave him a rare warm smile. "Thanks, Denz. I owe you one."

Tifa took his hand and pulled at it gently. "Come on, Denzel. Let's find you a bed."

"No," Denzel said, pulling back his hand. "I mean, don't we have to debrief everyone?"

This was usually the time where they sent the kids out of the room. The other adults looked to Cloud and Tifa. They looked at each other, doing that thing where they communicated with their eyes. For the first time, Denzel wasn't annoyed by it. He wondered if he would ever be close enough to someone to be understood like that.

Finally, Cloud looked back at him. "Sure. You can stay for debriefing."

Feeling triumphant, Denzel sat down cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the glass that surrounded most of the bridge. He was holding back the exhaustion, but it was wearing on him.

Tifa started. "Two days ago, monsters started attacking Edge. At first I only saw one, so I took care of it myself. But then I found a few more. They were grassland monsters."

Denzel sucked in a breath. Grassland monsters were tough, and some of them were bigger than houses. It was mighty impressive that Tifa could take them down on her own.

"Marlene stood back and helped with healing and support spells. Once we finished those off, we ran into a dozen more, and I knew we were in trouble. That's when the head of the council called."

Tifa glanced over at Cloud. "He said that he hadn't been able to reach Cloud, and it was an emergency. I told them that he was on his way home already, and I knew he didn't usually answer his phone while he was riding."

Cloud and Denzel looked at each other uneasily. This must have been happening while they were sitting in their homemade hot spring, shooting the breeze.

"He asked me to meet at the town hall. Marlene and I avoided the rest of the monsters and ran there." Tifa rubbed her neck wearily. "The entire council was already assembled. Monsters had been popping up all over town and people were panicking."

Tifa started fidgeting with the wolf ring on her finger. It was something she did when she was anxious, and Denzel wondered what had suddenly kicked up her nerves. "A couple of injured people stumbled in while we were talking," she continued. "Marlene ran over and healed them without even being asked. The council was so impressed that they asked her to stay there and help out the wounded. They were organizing volunteers to gather everyone at the hall. It's the only reinforced building in Edge, and the monsters were plowing right through the houses."

Debriefing wasn't as exciting as Denzel had expected, and he was quickly being dragged down. He rested his elbows on his knees and propped his head up on his hands.

Tifa continued talking. "I went back out to continue fighting, but more and more were appearing, and things just kept getting worse. There were others that tried to fight, but—" she grimaced and shook her head. "They weren't prepared for grassland monsters. They were being killed or too badly wounded to fight, and I spent more time trying to heal them than actually fighting. So I sent everyone else to the town hall."

Tifa took a breath and looked over at Cloud. Denzel recognized the telltale signs of stress that he knew would be there – the clenched jaw, the impassive face, the glowing eyes. He didn't like hearing that she had sent everyone away; it was an argument as old as their story. Tifa would always risk herself to protect everyone else, and Cloud would always scold her for it.

She held his gaze defiantly and continued. "I knew I just had to hold them off until Cloud got home, but then nighttime came and he still wasn't back. That's when I called him. He told me they were still a day out, and that I should call in the rest of you. So I did, and then I called Tseng. He brought in the Turks to help, and we fought off as many as we could, but there just weren't enough of us to cover the whole town. Marlene stayed at the town hall and healed all of the wounded people as they came in. Once the rest of the old crew showed up, we fought until they had all been cleared out."

Denzel's eyes drooped shut, and he forced them back open with an effort.

"What I wanna know," Cid said as he stubbed out his cigarette, "is how those &#$! things got into town in the first place. No one at the town meetin' knew anything about it."

"Yeah," Tifa said thoughtfully. "None of the walls were even damaged. It was like they just appeared inside. I wonder…"

That was the last thing Denzel heard before the darkness pulled him under.

* * *

Denzel slept for the rest of the day and through the night. When he woke up in his own bed the next morning, it was to the nagging pain of hunger in his gut. He pulled on a shirt and some jeans and headed out in his bare feet.

The welcoming smell of behemoth bacon lured him down the stairs. Cloud didn't kill behemoth very often, but when he did, its meat lasted forever.

Tifa smiled at him as he sniffed his way over to the stove where she was flipping the meat in the pan. "Hey kiddo." She picked up a plate piled high with bacon. "Take this out to the table."

Denzel took the plate and crammed several in his mouth as he walked away. Tifa laughed. "Try to leave some for the others," she called after him.

Denzel hit the swinging door with his shoulder as he headed out to the bar area. Cloud and Barret sat at the table, already wolfing down waffles and some kind of egg bake. Denzel slid the half-empty platter of bacon onto the table and started piling food on his plate.

Barret chuckled. "Good to see he's got a healthy appetite."

Denzel ignored him and shoveled food into his mouth with his good hand. He was managing just fine with one hand to that point, but he ran into trouble when he came across a hard piece of fruit that was too large to eat whole. Hesitantly, he raised his left arm and tried to pick up the knife. It was hard to steer, so he used his right hand to move the arm into place, but he still couldn't get his fingers to open and curl around the handle of the knife.

Cloud set down his fork and gestured with his hand. "Pass it over."

Denzel sighed and gave up, picking up the plate with his right hand and giving it to Cloud.

"What happened to you, man?" Barret asked as Cloud cut everything on the plate into bite-sized pieces.

"Oh. I broke my arm and healed it up wrong," Denzel said with a frown.

Barret held up his mechanical hand with a grin. "We'll have to get you one of these," he said. "You can make all yer friends jealous. I can switch it out with all kinds of attachments, ya know, not just the gun."

Denzel shook his head as Cloud handed back his plate. He had really been hoping to make it to adulthood with all of his limbs intact. "I'm hoping Marlene can fix it. Where is she, anyway?"

"She's still sleeping," Cloud said. "But I'm not sure if she…uh…"

"What?" Denzel frowned. "She can do that thing where she sees inside of my arm, right? She'll be able to find all the places where it's messed up and fix it, right?"

"I know, but…" Cloud hesitated. "I'm not sure if she's going to feel up to it for a while."

Denzel dropped his fork, immediately alert. "What do you mean? What's wrong with her?"

Just then, the kitchen door swung open and a small girl walked in. No, not a small girl. _Marlene_. Except she looked like a skeletal version of the girl he'd grown up with.

Denzel pushed back his chair and rushed over to her. He pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Gaia, Marlene! What happened to you?"

Marlene turned her head away. "Oh…well apparently, it's not good for you to guzzle ethers like water."

Denzel held her at arm's length, trying to catch her eye. "Marlene? Why won't you look at me? You don't have to be ashamed of anything, you know. It doesn't matter to me how you look."

Marlene raised an arm up in front of her face. "No, it's not that."

Denzel blinked. "What is it then? Is there something else wrong with you?"

Marlene coughed weakly. "Not me. It's just…gods, you really stink."

Denzel took a step back, his face pink. "Sorry, Mar. I haven't had a shower in a while."

Marlene waved her thin arm in the air in front of her, fanning away the stench. She looked over at the two men at the table, who were watching the scene in amusement. "Gaia, how could you guys even eat with him sitting over there?"

Denzel threw up his hand as Cloud and Barret laughed. "All right, fine," Denzel huffed. "I can probably make it through a shower without starving to death. Maybe."

Marlene threw him a smile as he walked off, sulking. It was great to be home.

* * *

Denzel pushed against the tire with his foot, lazily rocking the tire swing that he'd outgrown years ago, but which easily fit his little sister again. He was sprawled out in the gravel behind Seventh Heaven, trying to get comfortable against the rocky ground. He already missed the grass from the camping trip.

Marlene's arms and legs dangled over the sides of the swing, and she closed her eyes as the wind played gentle games with her hair.

It had been years since they'd played in this swing, but he and Marlene used to spend hours out here when they were younger. This old tire had been their flying carpet, their horse, their hovercraft, and a million other things that let them escape the grim reality of their lives.

"Remember when we didn't have to go to school at _all_?" Denzel asked suddenly. "We played on this thing all day." School was supposed to have started back up two days ago, but it had been suspended temporarily while everyone worked on repairing the damaged town.

"Yeah," Marlene responded without opening her eyes. "Days were so long and boring back then."

"What?" Denzel raised himself up on his elbows. "Are you kidding? We had a blast back here!"

"We did," Marlene agreed. "But we had nothing to do. We spent all day, every day, trying to think of ways to pass the time."

Denzel laid back in the dirt again. "Yeah, I guess so." He continued gently pushing the tire swing with his foot. The rhythmic squeaking was lulling Marlene into a doze when he spoke again.

"So, what does Cloud think about your…um…condition? Are you going to get better?"

Marlene was still weak and sickly. Tifa had a bunch of exercises that she was making her do, and was still forcing her to drink those horrible shakes every 4 hours, but she hadn't seen much improvement yet. She still needed several naps to make it through the day, and her muscles started to shake after the slightest bit of exertion.

Before she could respond, Tifa poked her head out the back door of the bar. "Hey guys, it's time to get ready for the memorial ceremony."

"Ok," Denzel replied, stopping the tire with his foot.

Tifa went back inside. He stood and lifted Marlene out of the swing like a child. He was getting better at doing things with one arm, but it was still a struggle sometimes. He couldn't seem to figure out how to make his left arm work, so for the most part it hung uselessly at his side.

Marlene scowled when he held her for a moment too long. "I can _walk_ , Denzel."

"I know, I know," Denzel said, setting her on the ground.

She walked ahead of him into the kitchen of Seventh Heaven. Denzel sighed and trailed behind her. Tifa was busy at the counter, preparing some food for after the memorial. She glanced up when he entered.

"Denzel, you shower first, but make it quick. I don't want to deal with a cranky Cloud all afternoon if he has to take a cold shower. Marlene, I'll help you take one when he's done."

"Tiiiiiifaaaaa," Marlene groaned. "I don't need help taking a shower!"

Denzel missed the rest of the argument as he climbed the stairs and shut the bathroom door. He really did try to take a quick shower, but everything took a whole lot longer with one arm. Twenty minutes later, he shut off the water and hoped Cloud would be late coming in from the reconstruction efforts.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded back to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Tifa had laid out his clothes for the memorial on the bed. He checked them out as he dried off with the towel. It didn't look too bad – a short-sleeved polo and plain brown pants.

He had to get his boxers from the drawer – thank the gods Tifa didn't pick those out for him, too – and pulled them on. On his way back to the bed, he caught a look at his reflection in the mirror. He was really starting to fill out. He flexed his muscles and admired himself from a few different angles. His arms and pecs were getting pretty defined. They didn't look like Cloud's or anything yet, but it really was a lot of work to swing that sword around. "Yeah, I work out a bit, Alicia…well, I don't wanna brag, but..."

A girlish giggle came through the thin wall separating his room from Marlene's. "Denzel? Are you like…posing in front of the mirror right now?"

"No!" Denzel yelled back as his face burned red. Marlene only laughed harder. "Shut up, Marlene," he said, throwing his pillow at the wall. Great. She was never going to let him forget this.

Her laughter followed her out into the hall. "Oh Alicia, I love you so much!" she said mockingly. She made loud kissy noises as she passed by his door.

Denzel glared in the direction of her voice. "Don't be such a child, Marlene!"

After her laughter had faded down the hall, he sighed and finished getting dressed. He went downstairs to find Cloud sitting up at the bar with a short glass of something dark in his hand. Denzel slid onto the stool next to him as Cloud swallowed the last of his drink. It smelled like whiskey. That wasn't a good sign.

"Sorry if I used too much of the hot water," Denzel said. "I tried to be quick."

Cloud tilted his head in Denzel's direction without looking at him. "I'll survive." He stood and brought the glass to the sink behind the bar, washing it with practiced efficiency and sliding it back on the shelf. Then he braced his hands on the sink and stood there with his head down.

"Cloud?" Denzel asked quietly. "Are you ok?"

Cloud lifted his head and shrugged. "Yeah. Just kind of heavy, you know? Going to the memorial for all those people who died because I wasn't here to…"

Denzel's stomach sank. He hadn't even really thought about that. Only he was so much more guilty than Cloud. Cloud had no way of knowing that something bad would happen to Edge, but _Denzel_ did. He had his reasons for keeping the secret from Cloud when they were at the cabin, but once they were on the road, once they were fooling around in the water, he should have told him. He should have said something about his suspicions. He should have given Cloud a reason, any reason, to get back on the road. So really, _he_ was the one who had kept Cloud from saving those people.

He understood then the weight of responsibility on Cloud's shoulders. Because he was the only one truly capable, he was expected to be there to save everyone at all times. He didn't ask for the job. He didn't even ask for the enhancements that made it possible. Maybe once upon a time he had wanted to be stronger to save a girl, but that didn't mean he wanted the rest of his life to be defined by it. He was quiet. He was a loner. But he would never be able to blend into a crowd again, at least not near Midgar. Denzel suspected that was the reason he liked his job so much. He spent the day alone with his machine, flying down the road. When he had to talk to strangers farther from here, he could just be an anonymous delivery man. So why did he stay in Edge, when he could do his job anywhere? Because of Tifa? Because of them?

"Denzel."

"Huh?" Denzel was snapped from his musings by Cloud's voice.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Oh, uh, sorry," Denzel said, blinking. "Just daydreaming."

"Huh. Ok. Well I'm gonna go take my cold shower," Cloud said, walking toward the kitchen door.

Denzel nodded. He had a little time to kill before they had to leave, and there was an itch in his head.

He climbed the stairs and settled onto his bed with his sketchpad. He opened it to his last drawing, the one of the shattered town square. He was still a little awed by the level of detail. It was like nothing he had ever done before. Maybe it was because he had let go and let the vision come out by itself. It wasn't fully formed in his head, so he didn't know what it was before he started. If he'd had more detail in his drawing of Marlene and the three girls, would he have been able to prevent whatever had happened to her in the Wasteland?

He still didn't know if it was possible to change the things he saw in his visions. They hadn't really changed what happened to Web, had they? He still ended up bleeding into the snow next to the wood pile. Maybe Denzel was meant to be there all along. Maybe the picture was just showing exactly what _did_ happen. He often didn't have all the details in the visions, so it wasn't a stretch to think that Denzel was actually there, but it was a detail that hadn't made it onto the drawing. Maybe it would have been completely different if they had left.

That brought him back to the town square. The memorial was being held there, next to the fully intact statue. The destruction in his picture never happened. Did that mean it would have happened if they had gotten home on time? Or did it just mean that he couldn't force the ability when he wanted it and the whole image just came from his imagination?

Denzel sighed and flipped to a clean page. He really didn't want to go down that rabbit hole right now.

He put the tip of his pencil to the paper. The image kicking around in his head was of Alicia. He let his hand take over and watched the image come to life in front of him. She was wearing a dark dress. Her head was bowed, and her dark hair hid most of her face. Her hands were folded in front of her, and every inch of her posture spoke of grief. Denzel gently traced his finger down her back on the sketch. As always, he could feel the emotions of the people in his drawings, and right then, he desperately wanted to comfort her.

He raised his head at the loud knock on his door. "Denzel, time to go." Cloud didn't wait for a response. His shoes tapped away down the stairs.

Denzel put away the sketch pad and made his way down to the bar. He came through the kitchen door and stopped to stare at his family. This was a sight he didn't see every day.

Cloud was actually wearing a tie, looking supremely uncomfortable. He wore shiny black shoes instead of his usual boots, and shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. He fidgeted with the knot in his tie.

Tifa pulled his hand away. "Stop messing with it, Cloud. It looks fine."

She wore low-heeled shoes and a sleeveless black dress that showed off her toned arms. She had her mother's teardrop earrings in, but no other jewelry. Her hair flowed loosely around her face in soft curls. Denzel thought she might have even been wearing a bit of makeup, which was pretty, but a little disconcerting to see on Tifa.

Marlene wore a blue sundress and sandals. Her hair had been pulled back into a fancy French braid with flowers woven into it. It almost hid the thin, brittle texture of her hair, but the little dress exposed her frail arms and legs. The sharp jut of her collarbone stood out above the neckline. When she was covered in baggy clothes, Denzel forgot just how much weight she had lost, but at that moment, she looked like a tiny, fragile doll. That little doll was putting up a heck of a fight right then, though.

"I do _not_ need to be carried," she insisted stubbornly.

"Honey, you'll be standing up on the stage for a while, and I don't want you to get too tired out," Tifa reasoned.

"I won't be too tired," Marlene said, exasperated. "I can walk _three_ _blocks_."

Cloud sighed. "We don't have time for this." He picked up Marlene and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Hey! Stop it! Cloud! Put me down right now!" Marlene kicked and struggled and pounded on Cloud's back.

"You know, she's just going to wear herself out faster like that," Denzel pointed out as he approached them.

Cloud growled and set her back on her feet. "Marlene! Please. You're not being reasonable."

"Look," Tifa said soothingly. "We'll just wrap the front of your skirt around your legs and he'll carry you on his hip. It will look totally dignified."

"No way," Marlene said, appalled. "I'm not three!"

"Why don't you just bring the car," Denzel suggested.

"Because it's three blocks away and we won't be able to park anywhere near it," Cloud said irritably.

"So why don't you drop them off and drive back here, and then we can walk. If Marlene isn't too tired after the ceremony, she can walk home."

They all looked at each other, waiting for someone to object. Finally, Cloud shrugged. "Ok."

The three of them left, and Denzel plopped down in a chair to wait. His mind couldn't escape the thoughts of the memorial. He knew that some people had been killed. What if they were people he knew? What if they were his friends? He hadn't wanted to think about it before, but it was time to face up to it. He would have to hear their names, see their pictures, and accept his role in these people's deaths.

Cloud returned a few minutes later and poked his head through the front door. "Let's go, Denz."

Cloud and Denzel walked together in silence. They were both brooding, both feeling guilty for their own reasons. When they got to the square, they looked over the half-filled chairs. Tifa and Marlene were in the front row, since they were being honored as part of the ceremony. Yuffie bounced on the seat next to them. Barret, Cid, and Nanaki had all been invited, but they had their own lives to get back to and had declined.

The sun was beginning to set, and it was already getting harder to see. The ceremony would be ending with a candlelight vigil for the victims of the attack, so it would be fully dark by the time they left. Cloud pointed out a couple of empty chairs near the back. Denzel nodded and they headed over there. They took their seats and waited for the rest to fill in.

"Hey Cloud," Denzel wondered aloud. "How come they never have ceremonies like this for you?"

Cloud snorted. "They tried to, at first, but I refused to come. After the first couple times, they didn't bother to ask anymore."

Denzel smiled and went back to looking around at the crowd. That was when he saw her. Two rows ahead and three chairs over, Alicia sat next to her mother. The chair to her left was empty, the last one in the row. She was wearing the black dress from his drawing. He couldn't see well enough to know what she was feeling right then, but the emotions from the picture came back to him, and he felt a strong need to comfort her.

"Is that her?" Cloud asked. "The girl you like?"

Denzel was startled to be caught staring. "Yeah," he said, shrugging shyly.

"Why don't you go sit by her?" Cloud suggested, leaning back in his chair.

Denzel recoiled. "No, I can't. Anyway, that chair is probably saved for her dad."

Cloud slowly shook his head. "I don't think her dad is coming," he said softly.

Denzel looked back at Alicia and her mother. They were both dressed in black, both sitting quietly, talking to no one. He hesitated. "I don't know if I would be welcome."

"Maybe not," Cloud shrugged. "But she looks to me like she could use some comfort."

Denzel pondered it for a while longer. "Are you sure it's ok? I don't want to just ditch you."

Cloud smothered a smile. "I'll manage."

Denzel nodded to himself, trying to work up the courage. He would normally have been too shy to act so boldly, but the sorrow from the picture wouldn't let him hide from it. "Ok. Ok. Here I go." With a surge of bravery, he stood up and walked over. He stood awkwardly at the end of the row. Alicia didn't even notice him. He cleared his throat. "Is it…um…can I sit here?" he stuttered.

Alicia squinted up at him in surprise. Her eyes were dry at the moment, but he could tell she'd spent a lot of time crying recently. He immediately regretted his bold move.

"Denzel?" She glanced over at her mother, but she didn't even seem to notice them.

 _Stupid! Why did I listen to Cloud? She doesn't want to be around me when she's mourning her dad! Maybe she doesn't even like me anymore after I stood her up last week._

"Um, I mean, if you want to be alone, I can—"

"No, sit down," she said with a small smile.

Denzel swallowed back his nerves and sat down next to her. Success! Now he just had to figure out how to not make a fool of himself for the next two hours.

The ceremony started. The head of the council stood up and gave a speech about remembering the 19 souls who had fallen that day. He read off a list of names, and Denzel heard a small sniffle from Alicia. He looked over at her. She was trying to hide her face, but Denzel could tell that she was crying. The guilt came back in full force. Hesitantly, he reached out his hand. He held his breath and nudged his pinkie against hers, waiting, watching for a sign. She lifted her hand just slightly, letting him slide his underneath, linking her fingers between his. He let out the breath he had been holding. He needed the comfort as much as she did.

For a few minutes they sat there like that, his hand held in her lap. Then, quietly, slowly, she moved her chair closer. She leaned her head hesitantly on his shoulder, and Denzel had to remind himself to relax. Her hair smelled of strawberry shampoo, just like in his fantasy, and he had to resist the urge to lean over and sniff it. After a few minutes, she tilted her chin up toward his ear.

"Denzel?" she whispered. "I-I didn't want you to see me like this, but…I'm really glad you're here."

For a few minutes, Denzel forgot his guilt. He was floating on a cloud. He had no idea what was happening onstage, and probably wouldn't even have noticed that Marlene was up there if Alicia hadn't lifted her head. "Denzel? Your sister doesn't look very good."

He blinked and looked up at the stage. Marlene was standing there with a portly woman and two other girls around her age. Her eyes were unfocused and her face was drained of all color. Tifa and Yuffie were behind her on the stage and wouldn't be able to see her. Marlene swayed slightly. Denzel gasped and jumped to his feet, knowing she was going to fall, but that he was never going to make it up there fast enough.

And then Cloud was there in front of her, swooping in to catch her as she fell. The crowd gasped and murmurs broke out, but Cloud ignored them. He cradled Marlene's tiny frame to his chest and looked back at Tifa, who had her hand over her mouth.

"I'm taking her home," he told her.

Tifa nodded and Cloud hopped off the stage with his bundle. Without looking back, he strode off into the darkness.

The chattering grew even louder and people craned their necks to see what was happening. The head of the council stepped back up to the podium.

"Ahem. Well, it seems that she's in good hands," he said, talking over the chatter. "Please, let us continue with the ceremony."

The talking died down and people returned to their seats. Tifa was making her way off the stage, looking worried.

Denzel let go of Alicia's hand. "I have to go," he said.

She nodded and gave him a small smile. "I hope she's ok. I'll…I'll see you at school?"

Denzel nodded and ran to meet Tifa.

* * *

When they burst through the front door of Seventh Heaven, they were greeted by Marlene, sitting at the bar with a bowl of ice cream. Her bare feet swung freely under the high bar stool. The color had returned to her face, and she would have looked perfectly normal if not for the disheveled French braid in her hair.

"Hey guys," she said cheerfully. "You didn't have to leave the ceremony. I just got a little dizzy. Cloud totally overreacted and wouldn't listen all the way home when I tried to tell him I was _fine_."

Tifa hurried over to her as if she hadn't said a word. She put a hand on Marlene's head to check her temperature, then tipped back her chin to get a good look at her eyes. Apparently satisfied with her findings, she sat down on the stool next to Marlene. Cloud stood on the other side of the bar, looking relieved to have Tifa taking control.

"Mar," she said. "Fainting for no reason is never fine. I _knew_ we should've stayed home tonight!" She pounded her fist on the bar and ran a hand through her hair, ruining her perfectly styled curls. "You _have_ to be honest with me when you're not feeling well, Marlene. If I can't trust you, I'll have to decide _for_ you when you can or can't leave the bar."

Marlene's bravado deflated. She slouched and put down her spoon. "I'm sorry. I guess I convinced myself I was fine because I really, _really_ wanted to go. I just want to feel normal again." She looked up at Tifa with such sadness in those big brown eyes, and Tifa didn't stand a chance.

"Oh, I know sweetie," Tifa said with a sigh. "But you can't do that anymore, ok? We might just set back any recovery you've made, and then it will be even longer until you're back to normal." She stood up, businesslike again. "I'm going to go get you another shake. You need nutrients, _not_ ice cream." She sent Cloud a disapproving look.

"Tiiiiifaaaa! Normal, remember?" Marlene begged. "Can I _please_ just finish my ice cream before I choke down another one of those raw sewage drinks?"

Tifa looked caught between hurt, compassion, and her better judgement.

"Tifa." Cloud said her name and she locked onto those bright blues. They looked at each other for a moment, words passing through time and space between their eyes.

Tifa blinked and looked back at Marlene. "Sure, honey. You can finish your ice cream. But then you need to drink the whole thing and then Cloud's going to carry you up to bed, ok?"

"Ok!" Marlene perked back up and dug into her ice cream again.

* * *

As the days rolled by, the cool spring days grew ever warmer. Tifa and Cloud spent a lot of time helping with the reconstruction, leaving Denzel and Marlene to hold down the fort. Due to their respective injuries, they were restricted from helping.

"Two more, Mar. Come on, you've got to do them all," Denzel said, pacing next to her.

Marlene growled at Denzel. "Who made you my personal trainer?" But she pushed through her last two leg lifts.

Watching Marlene struggle and fight through every day seemed to be Denzel's penance. With Cloud and Tifa so busy, he took it upon himself to enforce her recovery schedule as set by Tifa. But instead of feeling any kind of redemption, the guilt lingered on, digging deeper with every time he saw her wince in pain, or the exhaustion slip through her mask when she thought no one was looking.

But at least she seemed to be making some progress. For his part, Denzel was getting no better at controlling his left arm. He could swing a sword with one arm, but he was thrown off balance by the erratic movements of the other.

"Alright, time for your raw sewage," he announced. They were careful not to call it anything bad when Tifa was around anymore, but between the two of them, it would always be the nastiest thing they could stomach (or smell, in Denzel's case).

Marlene wrinkled her nose but followed Denzel into the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge side of the giant industrial fridge/freezer and pulled out the pitcher of the latest batch of the nutrition shake. Tifa seemed to be constantly adjusting the recipe, making it just a little different every time, and this batch was actually not horrible, but the kids kept up their nickname.

With the pitcher in his right hand, he reached over to close the fridge door. He looked over his shoulder at his sister. "Hey Mar, do you think—"

 ** _*SMASH*_**

He hit the side of the fridge door with the pitcher, knocking it from his hand. The pitcher crashed to the floor, splattering smelly green ooze everywhere. The plastic pitcher didn't break, but Denzel's last nerve did.

"AAAHHHHHH!" He screamed in frustration. "This stupid—" he kicked the pitcher across the floor, splattering more green goo, "Useless—" he picked it up and hurled it against the wall, " _Worthless_ —" he threw it again, making a dent in the plaster, "MESSED UP ARM!"

Then he stormed out to the training room. For the moment, Marlene was the farthest thing from his mind. He needed to vent his frustration, Cloud-style. He grabbed one of the practice swords, not caring which, and dragged a practice dummy out of the storage room. He threw the dummy to the center of the training room floor and followed behind it, slashing and hacking and screaming. His hits were off-center, weak and ineffective, and it only fueled his anger more. He struck it, over and over, until his arm grew weak and tired, finally hurling the sword against the wall. He slumped down to the ground next to the dummy, breathing hard. Even bad hits took energy, and as exhaustion had crept in, he found he no longer had the energy to support his fury. The problem was, he still felt _bad_. It was just a dull bad feeling instead of explosive. Maybe Cloud's method wasn't so cathartic after all.

Denzel had no idea when he was no longer alone. He was completely taken by surprise when small fingers grasped his left wrist.

"Marlene? What are you doing?"

Marlene closed her eyes and wrapped both hands fully around his forearm.

"Hey, you shouldn't be—"

"Shh!" Marlene hissed. Her features snapped into irritation for just a second, and then smoothed back into the peaceful expression she wore when meditating. Denzel was shocked into submission.

She moved her fingers around his arm, gently prodding in different places. Her face screwed up into a look of confusion, and then shock. She opened her eyes and released him.

"Wow, Denz, you messed that up good." She shook her head sadly.

"What? What did you see?" he demanded.

"Well, it looks like you tore the muscle fibers and then reattached them to different ones. And some of those go to totally different muscles. And the nerves are mixed up all over the place. And the bones are fused, but they're not straight. How in the heck did you manage that?"

"I don't know," Denzel said irritably. "I just knew I was in pain and I knew I could heal myself, so I did! And anyway, you're not supposed to be doing that until you're well again. Where did you even get the restore materia? Did you take mine?" he demanded.

Marlene looked surprised, as if the thought had never occurred to her. "I didn't. I mean, I don't. I don't have any."

"Well then how did you just do that?"

"I—I don't know." Marlene looked as confused as he felt.

"Don't you use the materia to do that?"

"I just said, I don't know!" Marlene snapped.

"Ok, ok," Denzel said placatingly. "So…when did you figure out you could do it? Did Tifa teach you?"

"No," Marlene said, playing with a strand of hair. "She was as surprised as anyone the first time I did it. It was just like…like I always knew how to do it, but I didn't remember until I started using materia."

"Huh." Denzel stared at the floor and sank into his own thoughts. Was she born with that skill? Was there something different about Marlene? He knew nothing about her real parents, except that they were killed when she was very young. What if she wasn't fully human or something? Maybe she was a totally different species. He thought through the characters he knew of from his comics, looking for one with skills like Marlene's. Maybe the stories were based on truth. Maybe there was actually—

"It smells like flowers," Marlene said suddenly.

"What?" Denzel stared at her frankly. "How can an ability smell like anything?"

"No," she corrected herself. "It's more like a memory. A memory of a smell."

"Like, from when you were really little?" Denzel asked. "Before Barret brought you to Midgar? What do you know about your real parents?" he asked, starting to get excited about his theory. "Are they definitely from this planet? Did they have some kind of powers, too? Maybe they got killed because of those powers. Or maybe they were just kidnapped and their death was faked! Maybe the flowers you remember weren't flowers at all!"

Marlene dropped the piece of hair and stared at him. "Denz, you really need to get out more. Seriously? Aliens and superheroes?" She scoffed. " _Shinra_ killed my parents. Along with half of the people in my hometown. They were miners. They weren't there trying to blend in with the humans." Marlene rolled her eyes.

"Ok, fine!" Denzel said defensively. "But you have some kind of unique power, and I know you didn't smell flowers _here_ because they don't grow in Midgar."

Marlene's eyes lit up. "Yes they do! They grew in that that old destroyed church!"

"Oh yeah," Denzel said, frowning. "Yeah, that was weird. I still don't know how they grew there."

But things were starting to fall into place in Marlene's head. "And her house. They were at her house, too."

"What? Whose house?" Denzel asked.

"She came to get me. Before the sector 7 plate fell, she came to get me. She took me to her house. Her mom fed me cookies."

"What? Marlene, you're not making sense. Are you feeling ok? Do I need to call Tifa?" He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.

She shoved them away irritably. "I'm fine, Denzel. Just let me think."

The memory was hidden in the corner of her mind, covered in dust, but once she tugged at it, colors and sounds and yes, the smell of flowers came spilling out.

Marlene closed her eyes, focusing on the scene unfolding behind her eyelids. "We sat on the floor in her room. Her room was full of pink, and she smelled of flowers." She smiled softly as warm feelings overflowed from the memory. "She taught me how to do a braid and let me practice on her hair. I taught her the secret handshake Daddy showed me. She swore she would never forget it. It was like having the big sister I always wanted."

She frowned thoughtfully. "But then she got serious. She held my hands and looked into my eyes and said something weird."

 _'You have the ability to see into others' hearts. You see past the masks they put up.'_

"I asked her what she meant, but she just shook her head."

 _'Someday you'll understand. But they'll be here soon, and I want to give you something.'_

"She leaned her forehead against mine and I felt…different. I told her I felt funny, and she just smiled."

 _'My time is almost up, but you have many years ahead. Use it well, Marlene.'_

"I asked her if she was old or sick, and she laughed. Her laughter sounded like jingling bells."

 _'Neither, but I have a part to play, little one.'_

"I asked if she was going to be in a play, but then there was this really loud sound outside, like a broken fan. She stood up and brushed off her dress."

 _'It's time for me to go now. We'll meet again, Marlene.'_

"And then there was a knock on the door, and she went downstairs. I ran to the window to see what was making the noise." Marlene furrowed her brow, reconciling her 5-year-old memory with her 12-year-old knowledge. "I didn't know what it was back then, but it was a helicopter. A Shinra helicopter. I watched it fly away, and then I went downstairs. Her mom was crying."

The memory of her sorrow affected Marlene as much now as it had back then. "The only thing I could think about was making her feel better. I asked if she wanted a hug and a cookie, because that's what Daddy used to ask me when I got hurt and cried. She wiped off her face and smiled, and said she'd take one of each."

"Soooooo…" Denzel drew out the word. "Are you telling me that the flower girl taught you how to do it?"

"No." Marlene shook her head. "I'm telling you that she _gave_ it to me."

The front door closed loudly, and they both jumped up. Denzel grabbed his sword and practice dummy and hauled them back to the storage area. Marlene chased after him.

"Denzel," she whispered as he hurriedly put away the equipment. "Don't tell Tifa where I got it, ok?"

"Why not?" he asked. He didn't even bother to whisper.

"Because I…well, I'm not sure why, but Tifa always acts a little weird when someone mentions her. And she looks at Cloud a lot. So just don't, ok?"

"Denzel! Marlene! Get in here!" Tifa called out from the kitchen. She sounded angry – like she might be about to go into Ranting Tifa mode.

It was then that Denzel remembered that the practice room was really not the biggest mess he should have been worried about. With a sense of impending doom, he prepared himself to face the wrath of Tifa over the green mess that was the kitchen.

Denzel wasn't sure if she was about to start crying or yelling, but she was certainly struggling to stay calm. He winced as his eyes roamed over the devastation. He didn't think it was possible, but it was actually worse than he remembered.

"Look, guys," she started tightly. "I know this stuff doesn't smell great, or taste great, but Marlene needs it if she's going to get better."

Her voice started rising – definitely leaning toward ranting now.

"These ingredients are really hard to get, and they're really expensive, and the special market where I get them won't be open again until next Tuesday."

Her face turned red and she started shaking. Yep – about to go nuclear.

"So you can't just _dump it out_ so you don't have to deal with it. I thought you guys were _responsible_ enough to DRINK IT ON TIME WITHOUT—"

"Whoa!" Cloud took a giant step over a puddle of thick green goop in front of the kitchen door. "What's going on in here? Looks like a giant booger explosion or—" he caught the look on Tifa's face and wisely closed his mouth.

"It's not _funny_ , Cloud! Do you know how hard it is to get all this stuff and—"

"Yeah, Teef, I know," Cloud said, smiling gently. He took her hands from her hips and squeezed them. "Let me take care of this, ok?"

"But how are we going to—" Tifa interrupted.

His eyes locked on hers and his voice grew softer. "I'll take care of it. And I'll deal with Denzel. Why don't you and Marlene go for a drive? Show her how far we've gotten with the reconstruction."

Tifa was beginning to lose steam. "But this is _important_. If she doesn't—"

"Tifa. Trust me?" It was almost a whisper this time.

Tifa let out her breath and closed her eyes. "I trust you, Cloud."

Denzel never quite could get over the way Cloud was able to take her from mach 10 to zero like that in seconds when he could barely stand to make small talk with the grocer.

Tifa opened her eyes and held out her hand to Marlene. "Let's go, Marlene. I've got something special to show you."

Cloud watched them leave the kitchen. Denzel stood behind him, wondering how Cloud was going to be able to fix this. He prayed it wasn't something crazy like scooping the mess on the floor back into the pitcher.

"How were you so sure it was me?" Denzel asked quietly to his back.

Cloud turned around calmly, his eyes flickering over the mess. "Oh, _this_ has angry rage written all over it. Not really Marlene's M.O." He gestured to the kitchen table. "So sit. Talk."

Denzel stepped around the mess as much as possible and sank into a kitchen chair. Cloud sat across from him and assessed him coolly. Gaia, those eyes were intimidating when he looked at him like that. Denzel almost wished Tifa would come back in and start ranting right about now.

"Well?" Cloud prodded.

"What do you want me to say?" Denzel asked.

"I want to know what you were raging about."

"Oh." Denzel looked down. "It was just an accident at first. I'm having a hard time getting used to only using one arm. So I accidentally hit it against the fridge door and dropped it. And then…I dunno. I was just so frustrated and sick of dealing with it."

"And?" Cloud prompted.

"And…nothing. Why isn't that enough?"

"Denzel." Cloud leveled him with his eyes. "I know you. There's something else bothering you."

Denzel felt like he was being stripped naked under the force of those eyes. He was afraid Cloud could see every bad deed he'd ever done, so he lowered his eyes. "I just feel…guilty."

Cloud leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Guilty? For what?"

"For…I guess…for having fun on our trip when all this was happening. For sitting at the river all day instead of coming home. And being with Marlene every day, seeing her struggle, it's like I just can't forget and move on."

Denzel chanced a glance up and was surprised by the hurt reflected in Cloud's eyes.

"Those are my burdens to bear, Denzel. I was the one driving and calling the shots. It was my choice to stay, not yours. Why would you feel guilty about that?"

Now Denzel felt ten times worse. Instead of admitting his real guilt, he had skirted around the truth and just poured salt in Cloud's wounds.

"But you didn't know!" Denzel protested.

"Neither did you," Cloud countered. "Right?"

"I just…I could've…I mean, if I'd said that we should leave, you would have, wouldn't you?"

Cloud shook his head. "Alright. If you don't want to tell me, that's your choice." He stood up and looked at the mess, running a hand through his spikes. "We still need to fix this."

Denzel slumped in the chair. "How do we fix it? Tifa said the market doesn't open until next week."

"If they're not bringing their stuff to the market, I'll just have to go to them." Cloud stepped carefully across the slippery floor and pulled open a drawer. There, in Tifa's careful handwriting, was a list of the ingredients of her most recent concoction and the stalls from which she purchased them. "I need to make some calls. _You_ are going to clean up this mess. Then you're going to scrub the whole kitchen – walls, floors, counters, appliances – the whole works. Since spilling it was an accident I'll let that slide, but _that_ ," he pointed at the dent in the wall, "you will need to pay for." He turned and walked up the stairs.

Denzel groaned as he surveyed the kitchen. He had a lot of cleaning to do.


	9. Chapter 9 - Jealousy

**Chapter 9 - Jealous**

It wasn't just that Marlene wasn't getting better. She was getting worse.

Every day he saw her, she looked like she had shriveled a little more, until the day he came down the stairs of Seventh Heaven to find her in a rickety, obviously second-hand wheelchair.

Denzel felt a jolt run through his body. He flew the rest of the way down the stairs. "Marlene? What happened? Why are you in a wheelchair?"

She tried to smile, but she looked almost too tired to put forth that much effort. "I can't stand anymore, Denzel. My legs are too shaky. But it's ok. This chair makes it much easier to get around."

He sank to his knees in front of the chair. She was always looking for the bright side of things, trying to make things seem less painful than they were. "But Mar…how can you be so cheerful about this? You're only 12 years old and you can't walk anymore!"

Marlene shrugged. "What good would it do to get upset? It wouldn't change anything." Her face stretched with a wide yawn. "But I'm really tired. Will you carry me up to bed?"

Denzel's heart broke. "Yeah, of course, Mar." He put one arm under her knees and one behind her back, and she wrapped one around his neck. He picked her up, light as a feather. He brought her back up the stairs and tucked her into her bed. She still had the old bedspread, the one that had matched Denzel's at one time.

He started to leave, but she held onto his hand. "Hey Denz. Remember when I used to get scared at night, and you used to tell me stories until I fell asleep?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Can you tell me one now?" she asked with wide eyes. With her shriveled frame, she looked every bit the 5-year-old she had been when he used to make up those stories for her.

"Uh…you want me to make up a story about fairies and dragons?" he asked skeptically.

Marlene laughed. Her voice was hoarse and strained. "No, Denzel, tell me a real story. One that starts with the night you and Cloud went to make a long distance delivery."

"Oh. You want me to tell you about the trip?"

Marlene smiled as she snuggled under the covers. "Yes. Every detail. Don't leave anything out."

Denzel sat down on the edge of her bed, but Marlene scooted to the edge and patted the spot next to her, inviting him to lie down next to her like they had as children. They had long been too big to lie in a twin bed together, but not anymore. With a pang in his chest, Denzel laid down next to her, on top of the quilt.

He told her the story. He told her every detail, trying to make it sound as lively and adventurous as he had with his imaginary stories. Marlene gasped at all the right places, and cheered at the right ones, too. But when he finished, she was quiet. In the past, this was the time where she would let her eyes drift closed, but this time she looked unsettled.

"Denzel? Is all of that true?"

"Yeah, that's how it all happened."

"You knew that your drawings could show you the future?" she asked quietly.

A sense of unease gripped him. "Well, yeah, I was pretty sure by then."

"So you knew that something bad was going to happen to Edge." Her voice wasn't quite accusing, but it wasn't a question.

Denzel sat up, groping for excuses. "Well, not exactly. I mean, sometimes they happened literally, but sometimes they were just symbolic, and I never knew when…"

"But yet you stayed and fooled around with Cloud at the river." There was definitely some kind of accusation in there.

"Yeah, but that was only after I talked to Tifa and—"

"So you kept Cloud from coming home to protect us. You could have told him to hurry home, but you didn't." Her tone was lethal. It stabbed him to the core.

Denzel blinked back the tears that suddenly burned his eyes. "Well I mean…I thought everything was ok by then. I just—"

Another voice sounded from behind him. "You did this to her."

Denzel jumped up from the bed, surprised to find that Cloud and Tifa had come into the room behind him. Had they heard the whole story?

Cloud's eyes scorched him with accusation. Tifa closed the gap between them and grabbed Denzel's shirt. "You killed her. You killed Marlene!"

"No! She's not—" Denzel spun back around to look at the bed. Marlene had tucked herself under the covers, so only the lump of her slight form was visible. He grasped the blanket and pulled it back, desperate to show them, desperate to see for himself that she was still ok.

The blankets flew back to reveal a skeleton - a pale, tiny skeleton. "NO!" Denzel screamed. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry Marlene, I didn't know! I DIDN'T KNOW!"

* * *

The early morning sunlight streaming through his windows cast his bedpost in sharp relief, and at first he couldn't understand what he was seeing. His heart was hammering so hard, he thought it might beat right out of his chest. He was covered in sweat from head to toe, breathing like he'd just finished a marathon. He disentangled his feet from the covers, trying to absorb the reality of the tiny bedroom around him. Dresser. Posters. Mirror. The materia box from Marlene and Skoll in his place of pride.

Just a dream. It was just a dream.

He needed to see her for himself, but he couldn't go to her room as he was. That would raise too many questions that he desperately wanted to avoid. He pulled off his soaked shirt, threw it in the hamper, and then peeked out of his doorway. The hallway was clear and the bathroom was open, so he scuttled down the hall before anyone could see him.

He shut the bathroom door and leaned against it. The bathroom was familiar and calming in the morning light, but everything still felt so surreal. What he needed was something to bring him firmly back to reality.

He pulled off the remainder of his sweaty clothes and stepped into the shower. He took a deep breath and braced himself, and then he reached for the tap and turned it on cold, full blast. The shock was immediate and effective. He jumped backwards instinctively, trying to escape the icy water, but there was nowhere to go in the small shower, and Tifa would make him regret it if he got water all over the bathroom floor. Forcing himself to lean into the cold spray, he reached out and twisted the knob toward hot. All he could do was stand there and pray for it to warm up quickly.

His prayers were not answered. The water took an absurdly long time to warm up, but while he stood there shivering, he reflected that at least he'd accomplished his goal. The last trace of his dream was bumped from the waking realm.

He showered as quickly as he could with his one hand. With the stench of the dream washed away, he wrapped a towel around his waist and returned to his bedroom.

Shuffling through his drawers, he pulled out some casual clothes and dressed himself quickly. He took a quick glance in the mirror while he toweled off his hair. Despite the way his insides were rolling, he looked normal enough on the outside.

Denzel took a deep breath before knocking on her door.

"Yeah, come in," Marlene's voice called through the wood.

He opened the door and found her sitting on the floor underneath the dirty window that overlooked the alley. Her legs were crossed as she leaned against the wall, a book open in her lap. He let out a soft sigh of relief. She looked fragile, but no more so than yesterday. Maybe she even looked a little better, a little less pale.

He approached her and sat down, mirroring her pose on the floor. "Hey."

She looked at him curiously. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he said, trying to act casual. "Just seeing what you were doing."

Marlene raised an eyebrow and said slowly "…reading…" He could hear the " _duh_ " in her tone.

Denzel flushed, feeling foolish. "Uh, yeah, I see that now, but I mean what are you reading?"

She leaned forward slightly and rested her arm at the top of the page, blocking the words from his view. "Just a book."

"Just a book, huh?" Denzel said dryly. "Sounds fascinating." _What is she doing?_ A smirk grew slowly across his face as he realized that she was trying to hide it from him. He reached over nonchalantly and snatched it from her hands.

"Hey!" she yelped.

Denzel held the book up and groaned. "Oh Gaia, Marlene, you're reading one of those cheesy romance novels? All the girls in my class are reading these stupid things."

Marlene grabbed the book and hugged it against her chest protectively, her cheeks flushing pink. "They're good books, Denzel!"

He busted out laughing. The look on her face was priceless. "Yeah, I can tell from the flowing hair of the shirtless guy on the cover."

"Well at least I'm not posing in front of my mirror and talking to my imaginary girlfriend!"

Denzel stopped laughing.

Knuckles tapped on the open door of the bedroom, and both kids looked over. Tifa stood in the doorway with a large glass in her hand, filled to the brim with her newest nutrition drink. Cloud had really come through, bringing her fresh ingredients that very night, and Tifa seemed to have completely forgiven Denzel for his tantrum in the kitchen.

"Ready for your shake?"

Marlene summoned a weak smile. "I guess so. Tifa, are these going to make me better?"

Tifa's expression withered just a bit. "Eventually, maybe. Right now, they're providing things that your body isn't, but I'm going to keep trying until I find something that will help you get better. Carey is supposed to be getting in some exotic new root next week that I'm going to try." Carey was the local apothecary, and he still felt he owed his wife's life to Marlene, so he was working tirelessly with Tifa to find a cure for her.

Marlene made a face as she accepted the glass and sucked the thick liquid through a straw.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," Denzel said with forced cheerfulness. Despite their moment of levity, he was keenly aware of her weakness and the toll it was taking on her psyche.

He retreated to his room and pulled his sketchpad from the drawer. Flipping through the pictures, he studied them from beginning to end. The earliest were from almost two years ago. His pencil was unsure and shaky, and he had clearly improved as time went on, but the style was the same – until that last picture. The others were basic outlines, well done with clear subjects, but bereft of detail. The Edge monument filled the page, like a snapshot that continued on beyond its borders. The details were intricate, every tiny crumb of broken cement visible.

It must have been symbolic. That was the only explanation he could come up with. If only he'd been given some clue of the timeline, like the snow on the woodpile at the cabin. He wished he could talk to Marlene about his ability, but his dream was a flashing red warning beacon in his head. If he told her about his ability and how he'd tried to manipulate it, he'd have to tell her about the picture. And then she would hate him. They would all hate him.

He forced the feelings back down. He needed to think about how else he could use this ability, and he needed to do it alone. Starting the drawing hadn't worked the way he had hoped, but he had been able to do _something_. Maybe he needed to go back farther in the process. He never started with a drawing – he started with the image in his head.

Denzel sat down on the floor with his legs crossed in front of him. He set his sketchpad across his knees and held a pencil loosely in his hand. Then he closed his eyes and pictured Marlene. She looked just as she had that morning, sitting on the floor with her book, but everything around her was black.

Marlene's face in his mind started to change. It blurred, like a camera going out of focus. He resisted the urge to focus harder on her face. It was always blurred and distorted until he got it onto the paper, and he wanted to let go a bit more, see how his drawing would change if he loosened his control.

The itch on his forehead was intense now. He relaxed his hand, almost to the point of dropping the pencil, and then carefully touched the tip of the lead to the paper.

 _Don't try to control it. Don't even think about it. Just let it go._

He didn't pay any attention to the way his hand was moving, and he didn't dare open his eyes until it had stopped. His hand raced across the page, filling and shading faster than he ever did when he was in full control of his drawing. He was a silent observer to the process, determined not to interrupt. Finally, it was done. He opened his eyes and looked down at what he had created.

Marlene looked better than she had in a long while. Some of the shine had been restored to the straw mess that was her hair. Her cheeks looked a little fuller, her jaw a little less sharp. From her hand dangled a moogle doll, well-worn and dirty. The stitching around the edges was coming loose, and when he looked closer, he could see places where it had already been repaired. It was obviously much beloved by someone.

Those dolls were a dime a dozen. Was he just supposed to buy one for her? No, that was stupid. Even though the pencil drawing had shown no colors, Denzel somehow knew that the thread in the places the doll was repaired were a different color. It was a very specific doll.

There was no other detail in the picture. Marlene and the moogle doll were superbly detailed, but there was nothing around them, no other clues to give him context. He closed his eyes again, wondering if he had stopped himself too soon, but there was nothing. The itch didn't come. His hand held the pencil loosely, doing nothing except what he told it to do.

He drew on the meditation techniques Tifa had taught him, trying to stay calm as long as possible. When the last thread of his patience was snipped, Denzel angrily threw the sketch pad across the room. The drawing had to be symbolic, but he didn't know what it meant, and he was even more frustrated than before he had started drawing.

So much for _that_ idea.

* * *

Denzel didn't really have any way to pay to repair the hole in the kitchen wall, so he'd been assigned chores to "earn" the theoretical money it would take to fix it. It didn't seem much different than doing chores as punishment, but he didn't mind. Doing something useful seemed to ease the guilt that dogged him every day. Doing them with one hand made everything take twice as long, and that seemed fitting, too.

As he sat in the kitchen and re-shelved all of the bottles he'd cleaned and inventoried for Seventh Heaven, Tifa entered through the back door, looking like a watered-down painting. Her black shorts and sleeveless shirt were covered in dust, muting the usual dark colors and darkening the light ones.

She leaned against the counter and cracked open a bottle of water. As she tipped her head back to drink, the messy bun on her head started to fall apart.

"How's the reconstruction going?" Denzel asked.

Tifa jumped at the sound of his voice, spilling water down the front of her shirt. "Oh! Denzel. I didn't see you there." She brushed uselessly at the wet fabric. "It's going…well, it's slow. We're spread so thin and it seems like nothing is getting done." She pulled off the band holding together her sloppy bun, and her hair fell around her shoulders with a puff of gray. "A platoon of soldiers was deployed to Edge this afternoon, though, so hopefully we'll be able to get some help from them."

Denzel sat up straight. "Soldiers? Like what Cloud used to do?"

"More or less," Tifa said, shaking her fingers through her hair to release the dirt. "The SOLDIER program doesn't exist anymore, but the WRO has regular forces. One of them will be staying with us, in Cloud's office, so I have to get that ready to go. I have a feeling the bar is going to get really busy with these guys in town, too." She rubbed wearily at her temples. Tifa had been running herself ragged day and night, as if she felt personally responsible for the restoration of Edge. Maybe she did. She wasn't immune to guilt, but she had done everything in her power to protect the town, so what did she have to feel bad about?

"Tifa, can I do something? I mean, can I help somehow? You have a lot to do and…" he shrugged, wishing he could convey the uselessness he felt with his handicap. He was sick of being stuck inside. He was strong and capable, but had proven himself to be too clumsy to be useful with the reconstruction. Instead, he had been relegated to babysitting and playing nursemaid for Marlene.

Tifa smiled at him fondly. "Actually, I do have something you can do. I need to get some groceries before the rush tonight. If you can go downtown and pick a few things up, it would be a huge help."

"Ok, sure," Denzel said, dusting off his pants as he stood.

"Let me make a list," Tifa said, already digging for a pencil and paper.

Twenty minutes later, Denzel stood in front of a false storefront with a faded sign proclaiming 'Jerry's Groceries'. He had a list in his pocket and a signed note from Tifa, asking Jerry to please put this on her tab. Denzel had felt a jolt of guilt as he read the note. Tifa hadn't needed to use credit for a while now, but almost all of their money had been spent on the ingredients for Marlene's nutrition drink. Hopefully a busy night at the bar would help make up some of that.

He pushed open the front door. It used to be a clear glass door, but it had been destroyed during the monster attack and was temporarily boarded over. Some of the windows had been broken and boarded up as well, and it cast a gloomy aura over the store.

The grocer smiled at Denzel as he walked in. Jerry was a kindly, middle-aged man with unwieldy tufts of gray hair. He wore a brown apron over the casual blue shirt and jeans that looked like the same ones he wore every day. He must have a closet full of identical shirts.

Denzel gave a friendly nod in return as he picked up a hand basket, then proceeded to the unfamiliar aisles. It looked like there had been some damage to the inside of the store, too, and everything had been moved around while repairs were underway. Repairs that, according to Tifa, were going to take a long time to finish. He studied his list and scanned over the items on the shelves. He walked sideways as he read the labels, so absorbed in his task that he didn't even see the girl until he stumbled on top of her.

"Oh!" She threw out her hands to catch herself on the floor, sending the groceries in her arms scattering across the aisle.

Denzel hurried to help the girl to her feet. She was around his age, with shoulder-length brown hair, and looked vaguely familiar. "I'm so sorry! Are you ok? Here, let me get those for you." He gathered up the items and put them in his own basket. He hadn't put anything in it yet, and her arms had been full. He could always go get another one.

The girl smiled at him as he handed her the basket. "It's ok. Denzel? Wow, it's been a long time!"

"Oh, hey, yeah. How—how have you been?" Denzel stuttered.

She laughed. "You don't remember me, do you?" She was rather average looking, but her brown eyes sparkled with kindness and crinkled in the corners when she laughed.

Denzel shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry, I…"

"Lexi," she said with a smile. "It's ok, it's been a few years. I used to see you sometimes in that alley when me and my brother used to hang out there."

"Oh yeah!" Denzel said, remembering now. That sparkle hadn't been in her eyes back then. She'd had no reason to smile. "How have you been?"

"I've been ok. I actually saw Marlene just a few weeks ago, too. She was healing people at the town hall. It was so amazing!" The smile slid from Lexi's face and her expression morphed to concern. "She didn't look so good at the ceremony, though. What happened to her?"

Denzel swallowed uneasily. "She's been having a pretty rough time. She used materia too much that day and it was really hard on her."

"Oh," Lexi said softly, putting her hand over her heart. "She was trying so hard to heal everyone. I had no idea it was hurting her so much."

"I don't think she did, either," Denzel said.

Lexi looked really distressed. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Denzel looked down at his feet. He knew Marlene didn't have a lot of friends around her age, and Lexi really seemed genuinely nice. "Actually, she'd probably be really happy if you stopped by Seventh Heaven to see her. She can't go very far from home because she gets tired out so easily." Cabin fever had been driving her crazy lately.

Lexi's face lit up. "Oh, I'd love to! And maybe I could help her with that problem, too," she said thoughtfully. "I'll stop by tomorrow morning. Don't tell her I'm coming, ok? I want to surprise her." Her eyes were sparkling again.

They parted ways, and Denzel grinned through the rest of his shopping. He was even more excited than Lexi was. Finally, he was doing something to help Marlene.

Between his chat with Lexi and his difficulty finding things in the store, it took him much longer than he had expected to finish his shopping. He set his basket on the counter and handed the note to Jerry.

Jerry took the note and read it, frowning slightly. Then he nodded and stuck it in a drawer. He rang up Denzel's purchases and tucked them into two large paper bags. "Give Tifa my regards, will you?" he asked as he accompanied Denzel to the door.

"Sure," Denzel said, trying to see around the bags loaded in his arms.

Jerry held open the door and then locked it behind him. Dusk had fallen, and Denzel walked as quickly as possible with his burden. Tifa was going to be upset that it had taken him so long. The rush would already be there and she didn't have the groceries she needed.

The packed parking lot when he arrived confirmed his fears. He circled around to the kitchen door and fumbled with the door knob. He opened the door and felt his heart stop.

An unfamiliar man with jet black hair and olive-toned skin leaned over Marlene, unconscious on the floor. In a flash, Denzel dropped the groceries and pulled a knife from the block by the door. "Get away from her!" he yelled.

Startled, the man looked up. "Whoa, take it easy, kid."

Denzel stalked forward slowly, the long butcher knife held out in front of him like his sword.

"Kid, I'm warning you, put down that knife." The man backed away from Marlene, but his eyes flashed in anger.

"No, I'm warning you," Denzel said, using the soft voice that he had learned from Cloud. With his mid-puberty voice changing, it wasn't quite as chilling as when Cloud did it, though.

The man reached into his black leather jacket and pulled out a pistol, pointing it unwaveringly at Denzel. "I'm not going to say it again. Put down the knife."

Just then, the door swung open behind him. "Whoa, whoa, what's going on in here?" Tifa demanded.

"Stay back, Tifa," the man said. "This kid broke into the kitchen and came at me with a knife."

Tifa ignored him and ran between Denzel and the man, standing protectively over Marlene and in the way of both weapons. "Denzel, what are you doing? Put down the knife!"

His arm wavered, but he didn't lower it. "Tifa, this guy did something to Marlene! He was just about to take her when I walked in!"

The man sputtered in protest. Tifa held a hand up behind her, silencing the man while giving Denzel a stern glare. "Denzel, put the knife back in the block, right now. And you—" she turned around to face the man, who had cautiously lowered the gun. "Give that to me."

He put the gun in her hand. Without hesitation, Tifa pulled out the clip and tossed it aside, emptied the chamber, and then handed back the empty gun. "When you're in my house and my bar, that thing is never to be loaded. Are we clear?"

"Tifa—"

"Are. We. Clear."

The man sighed. "Alright, fine." He tucked the now-empty gun back inside his jacket.

Tifa knelt down next to Marlene and scooped her up. She gave Denzel and the man each a fierce look. "You two, sit down. I'm going to put her to bed and then I'll be back."

Neither of them wanted to challenge her in a mood like that, but they eyed each other with distrust as they sat down at the little table. Neither said a word until she returned.

Tifa came down the stairs looking much older than her 27 years. She put her hands on her hips and pressed her lips together, looking down at them like misbehaving children who had greatly disappointed her. "Denzel, this is Niko. He's the WRO soldier that I told you was staying with us."

Denzel scowled. "Then where's his uniform?"

"I'm off duty!" Niko fired back.

"And Niko!" Tifa turned to glare at him. "I'll give you a pass this time because you didn't know who he was, but I swear if you ever threaten Marlene or Denzel again, you will be out on the street with your other buddies that got too rowdy tonight."

"Fine," Niko said, arms crossed. "Are there any other people I should be expecting to point weapons at me tonight?" His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

Tifa sighed. "Not unless you step on Cloud's toes."

Niko snorted. "I'm not stupid."

Denzel laughed, clearly disagreeing.

"You got a problem, kid?" Niko asked, staring him down.

"Both of you, enough!" Tifa interrupted before Denzel could answer. "I have way too much going on tonight to deal with you two and your egos."

Denzel closed his mouth and glowered silently at Niko.

"Denzel, pick up those groceries and get them put away. Niko, can you mix drinks?" Tifa asked.

"Um, yeah, I guess so."

"Good. Go up front and tend the bar for a while. I need to get started with some food. Cloud will take over for you when he gets back."

Niko sighed. "Sure, Teef."

Denzel knelt to the ground to begin picking up the groceries he'd dropped. The use of Tifa's familiar nickname irked him for some reason. He managed to keep his mouth shut until the door swung shut behind Niko. "You're really going to trust him to tend the bar for you?"

Tifa set a frying pan and a saucepan on the stove and turned on both burners. "I've worked with Niko through the WRO for a long time. I trust him with the bar, and I trust him with my family."

Denzel was a little stunned by the news. He shouldn't have been surprised. Obviously he knew that she had a life outside of Seventh Heaven, but it was hard to picture what people did outside of the environment in which you knew them. It was like running into a teacher at a store. It seemed unreal that they actually left the school and bought groceries like regular people.

"Ok, so then what happened to Marlene?" Denzel insisted. "You should have seen the way he was hovering over her! It was predatory."

Tifa kept her back turned to him as she dropped some butter in a hot pan. It sizzled loudly, giving her a few seconds to put together her response. "She's been fainting more often, Denzel. I think she's tired of taking it easy and she's pushing herself too much." Tifa stood on her toes to get a mixing bowl from a high cupboard, then handed it to Denzel. "I need a dozen egg whites in here. Be careful not to break the yolks."

Denzel nodded and set the bowl on the island. Tifa had been gradually teaching him to cook over the last few years, and he was starting to get pretty decent at it. As he carefully separated the egg whites, his thoughts circled around Marlene, and he suddenly remembered his chat with Lexi. Maybe he shouldn't have asked her to stop over. Maybe Marlene would get even more worn out from company. He didn't have any way to call her, though. He didn't even know her last name. He decided that he would have to be the one to answer the door when she came the next morning, and he would apologize to her then.

Tifa kept him busy in the bar for the rest of the evening. When he wasn't helping her with cooking, she was sending him out with food orders to the tables. He carefully avoided Niko, and Niko seemed too busy tending bar to pay attention to him anyway.

About two hours later, Cloud walked through the front door. He was usually the last one to leave the construction sites at night, because he could actually see in the dark. He was covered in a solid coat of dirt and plaster dust, making his blond spikes look gray in the dim lights of the bar.

Denzel watched closely for his reaction to Niko. He wanted to see disapproval on Cloud's face, but Cloud didn't seem at all surprised to see Niko there, tending the bar. He spoke to him briefly before disappearing through the kitchen door, probably anxious for a shower.

Niko glanced up to catch him staring. Denzel finished clearing the table, willfully ignoring the hard glare of the soldier. He didn't trust the man, and he intended on keeping a close eye on him as long as he was staying at Seventh Heaven.

The next morning, Denzel had somehow managed to completely forget about Niko. He stretched his arms over his head and sniffed the air, catching a whiff of French toast. He lumbered down the stairs, yawning widely. The kitchen was empty, but he could hear both Tifa and Marlene laughing in the bar area. He smiled, thinking it had been too long since he heard their lovely harmony.

When he pushed open the kitchen door, his good mood evaporated. The girls were still laughing, but sitting between them, in Denzel's chair, was Niko. He was younger than Denzel had realized last night, not much more than 18. He was wearing only a pair of pajama pants, and his impressive physique irritated Denzel even more.

"You're in my spot," he snapped.

The laughing stopped. "Denzel," Tifa said with a hint of disapproval. "It doesn't matter. Just sit in a different chair."

With a scowl on his face, Denzel pulled out a chair on the other side of the table, making as much noise as possible. He jerkily grabbed the orange juice and tilted the pitcher over his glass, but it was off-center and the glass tipped over, spilling the juice across the table. Without his other hand to stabilize the glass he couldn't afford to be so careless.

He slammed the pitcher back down on the table, splashing the spilled juice even farther.

"Denz—" Tifa started.

"I'll get it," Niko said calmly. Tifa was already rising, but he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "I'm already done eating," he said, flashing a charming smile as he stood. "You can have your spot back, Denzel."

Tifa gave him a grateful smile back and Denzel steamed. Niko took his plate and went into the kitchen to get something to clean up the juice.

Marlene was giving Denzel a questioning look, but he ignored it. He brought his empty plate over to his usual seat and began dishing up his food, trying his best to pretend that everything was normal. "Where's Cloud?" he asked.

"Dan Brandley came over and asked for his help earlier this morning. He left half an hour ago," Tifa said. She looked like she was trying to decide whether to say something to him.

Just then, the front door was pushed open from the outside. "Hello!" The friendly voice was followed by a young face with sparkling eyes.

"Lexi!" Marlene got up from her chair with a huge smile. "What are you doing here?"

Denzel mentally kicked himself. He had completely forgotten about intercepting Lexi before Marlene saw her.

"I came to see you!" she said.

"You did?" The happiness on her face was worth it, Denzel thought. She needed this.

Marlene glanced around. "There's not much to do here, but we can go talk in my room."

Lexi shrugged. "I thought we could go to the park."

"Oh." Marlene's face fell. "I don't think I can go there."

"Why not?" Lexi asked innocently.

Denzel felt a stirring of irritation. Lexi knew exactly why Marlene couldn't walk far, so why was she pushing this?

"I…" Marlene looked down. "I get tired out pretty quick, so…"

"Oh, Marlene," Lexi said with a grin. "I didn't mean you would _walk_. Come here. I have something to show you." She beckoned Marlene to follow her outside. Denzel followed, drawn by the mysterious sparkle in her eye.

In front of Seventh Heaven sat a faded yellow wagon. Lexi bowed theatrically and gestured to the wagon. "Your chariot awaits, Madame."

Marlene was smiling, but it was tinted with anxiety. "I don't know, Lexi. I mean, I'll feel stupid. What if someone sees us?"

Lexi cocked her head. "Don't you know? You're a celebrity in this town! People would be outraged to see you being forced to walk somewhere yourself!"

Marlene laughed out loud. She knew Lexi was joking, but somehow she felt calmer just being next to the older girl. She had a feeling everything would be ok as long as Lexi was there. So she let it go. "Ok, then. Let's go."

Lexi helped her into the old wagon. She'd even been thoughtful enough to bring a cushion for her to sit on.

"Wait a second," Denzel said, dashing back inside. Tifa was clearing the breakfast dishes from the table. "Hey, Tifa!" he called. "You've got to go check out what Lexi brought for Marlene." He knew that, in her excitement, Marlene hadn't even thought about telling Tifa where she was going. As Tifa headed to the front door, he ran into the kitchen and retrieved Marlene's coat from the closet, just in case.

When he got back outside, Tifa was admiring Marlene's "chariot" from all angles, circling around it. "I haven't seen one of these in years! Where did you find it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Lexi asked. "We've had it for a long time. I used to drag my little brother all over town in this thing."

"Come on, let's go!" Marlene said impatiently.

Denzel hadn't seen her this excited for weeks. He handed her the jacket and she gave him an exasperated but fond smile.

"Alright, just be back in time for lunch, ok?" Tifa asked. "I'll make enough for Lexi, too."

Lexi smiled. "Wow, thanks Mrs. Strife!"

Tifa's face colored pink. "No, I uh.. it's just Tifa."

"Ok, bye!" Marlene said impatiently.

Denzel backed away and waved.

"Have fun, girls!" Tifa said as they pulled away.

* * *

The wagon wheels were loud on the bumpy road. Neither of them wanted to yell over the noise, so Marlene just sat quietly and looked around at the scenery while Lexi pulled her along. She felt better than she had in a very long time. A slight breeze lifted her hair. She thought she could hear Lexi singing, but she couldn't be sure.

Lexi pulled the wagon to the edge of the playground. She held out her hand like a chauffeur to Marlene. Marlene giggled and accepted the hand to help her step out.

"Know why I like this park?" Lexi asked.

"No," Marlene said. Frankly, she didn't understand why they even called these things parks. That implied green things, and there was nothing green for miles around.

"Come here, I'll show you something," she said conspiratorially.

Curious, Marlene followed her across the rubbery material of the playground. On the other side, there was a graveyard for trees – what had once been a small patch of forest, withered and dead from exposure to mako. Lexi took a few steps in and looked around. She spotted a bright pink piece of cloth tied around one of the dead branches and perked up. She reached back to take Marlene's hand again. "Careful, there's a lot of things to trip over here."

The two girls carefully worked their way over to the pink cloth. Lexi squatted down and brushed away some debris on the ground. Without a word, she pointed at the space she had cleared.

Marlene leaned over and gasped. "Is that a…a…"

"I think it's a new tree," Lexi said excitedly. "I've been coming here and watering it and making sure the sunlight can get to it." She pulled a bottle of water from the pocket of her windbreaker and sprinkled some onto the tiny plant. "I think I'm the only one who's found it. You're the only person I've shown. So now it's our little secret."

A smile spread across Marlene's face. It was like a breath of hope for Midgar.

"Come on. I'll show you my other favorite thing to do here," Lexi said, leading her out of the dead forest. She walked back out onto the rubbery material of the playground and sprawled out on her back.

Marlene laughed. "That's your other favorite thing to do?"

Lexi grinned up at her. "It's one of the only places around that isn't rocks or asphalt. Try it."

Marlene carefully let herself down to the ground and stretched out on her back. It did feel pretty good. She put her arms behind her head. They laid next to each other in silence, staring up at the sky.

A memory came back to Marlene suddenly. "Did you ever look for animal shapes in the clouds? Daddy and I used to do it when I was little."

"Really?" Lexi giggled. "Cloud looking at clouds. That's funny."

"Oh, Cloud's not…I mean, I just stay with them." Marlene explained awkwardly.

Lexi rolled her head to the side to look at her. "Oh. I didn't know. Did your dad die?"

"Well…" How could she explain the complex blanket of relationships between them all? Even Daddy wasn't her real dad, and he wasn't dead, but her real parents… she decided the simplest answer was best. "Yeah."

Lexi stared at her for a moment longer. "Mine too," she confessed. She looked back up at the sky again. She started humming.

Marlene closed her eyes. It wasn't a tune that she recognized, but Lexi had a nice voice. It was soothing. The sun was warm on her face, too, and she sighed in contentment. At the moment, nothing hurt, she wasn't exhausted, and she was relaxing with a friend. She just felt…good.

They stayed on their cushy ground all morning. Sometimes they talked, sometimes Lexi hummed, and sometimes they were just silent. Marlene felt comfortable with her in a way she had never felt with anyone but her unorthodox little family. She shared blood with none of them, but she loved them all.

Finally, Lexi sat up. "It's getting close to lunch time. We should get back."

"Mm. Kay," Marlene said, but she didn't move.

Lexi laughed and poked her in the side. "Come on, get up. I don't want to suffer the wrath of your…of Tifa if I don't get you home on time."

Reluctantly, Marlene rolled onto her side and stood up. "Okay, okay."

They returned to the wagon and Marlene climbed in without being prompted. If it led to a day like today, she would suffer the indignity of being pulled like a child any day.

* * *

Tifa set the last of the food on the table and glanced at her watch for the third time in the last minute.

"Relax, Tifa," Denzel said, rolling his eyes. "They still have five more minutes."

Tifa chewed on her bottom lip. "I know. It's just that she hasn't been out of the house for so long since the attack and I don't like not knowing if she—"

Just then, the front door swung open. Lexi and Marlene paraded through the door, giggling over some shared joke.

"Hey, perfect timing!" Tifa exclaimed, as if she hadn't just been chewing a hole through her lip. Her hungry eyes combed over every inch of Marlene, checking for any sign of illness or fatigue.

Denzel couldn't help staring at her, either. "Wow, Marlene, I think you must have been starving for the sun or something."

Tifa agreed. "He's right. You do look better." She tilted her head to the side. "Your color or something, I guess."

Marlene smiled brightly. "Yeah, I'm feeling pretty good today."

"That's great, honey. Go get washed up and I'll get your shake," Tifa said.

Denzel saw her grimace, but luckily Tifa had already started back toward the kitchen.

He laughed and took his place at the table. When the three girls returned and sat at their places, Denzel noticed that there were still two empty plates. "Hey, why do you have six plates?"

Tifa didn't need to respond. In the next moment, the answer was walking in through the front door. Cloud and…Niko.

Denzel couldn't believe it. Was Niko going to be around for every single second he spent with his family? His good mood was immediately soured.

"Yeah, I'm not sure if he's going to make it back after lunch," Niko was saying with a laugh. "He was looking pretty grouchy by the time he left. I'm sure he'll develop some sudden back pain before it's time to come back."

"Or a headache," Cloud said with a grin. "Or maybe a sprained pinky toe."

Niko laughed again, like it was the funniest thing in the world. Denzel glowered.

The two men went into the kitchen to wash their hands and returned a moment later. They sat down at the table and started helping themselves to the food.

"Aww, man," Niko announced dramatically as he took his first bite. "I hope we're stationed here a long time. Tifa's cooking makes it totally worth being away from home."

Tifa beamed at him. Denzel stabbed moodily at his meatloaf. It tasted like sawdust to him.

For the next 15 minutes, Cloud, Niko, and Tifa talked about the reconstruction work they were doing. Marlene asked interested questions, but Denzel noticed that Lexi was just as quiet as he was. She was acting strange. She had a goofy smile on her face and her eyes fixed on Niko.

Denzel gritted his teeth. This lunch just couldn't get any better.

When they finished eating, the three adults started getting ready to leave again. "Denz, you've got the dishes? And Marlene, you should take a nap now."

"But I feel fine!" Marlene protested. "Lexi's here and besides, I don't think I even need a nap today."

Lexi's eyes flickered between Marlene and Tifa. "Actually, I have to get back anyway. I promised to help my mom with some things this afternoon."

Marlene looked disappointed. "Okay. Well, thanks for coming to see me today. I had fun."

"Me too," Lexi said. "You want me to come over again tomorrow?"

Marlene immediately perked back up. "Yes!"

Lexi smiled. "Ok. See you later." She walked past the adults, who were putting on their gear. "Bye, everyone." Her eyes flickered over Denzel, Cloud, and Tifa, and her face flushed furiously as they landed on Niko.

Denzel rolled his eyes. It seemed like Niko had everyone fooled. But not him. He could see right through him.

* * *

Over the next week, Lexi came to spend time with Marlene every day. She stayed a little longer each time, and Tifa began to relax a little more. It really seemed like the visits were doing a world of good for Marlene. She didn't get tired out nearly as often, and her fainting episodes had completely stopped. The color that had returned to her face after that first day had stayed, too.

"Ta-da!" Lexi said with a flourish. She wrapped the knitted scarf around Marlene's neck. "I finally finished!"

"Wow, this is really pretty!" Marlene gushed, fingering the material. "You made this?"

"Yeah," Lexi said. "Took me forever because I'm a super slow knitter, but I did it!"

Marlene admired the rainbow of colors. "I wish I could knit," she said wistfully.

"I could teach you," Lexi offered. "It's not hard to learn."

"Really?" Marlene piped with enthusiasm. "Too bad you didn't bring your stuff with."

"I can bring it tomorrow," Lexi said with a shrug. "It would be easier if you came over to my house, though. I have a ton of yarn."

Marlene turned her big brown eyes on Tifa, who was just finishing breakfast. "Tifa? Can I? I feel really good today. And we'll just be sitting in one spot, knitting. I won't even get tired out!"

Tifa looked to Lexi. "You brought your wagon?"

"Sure did," Lexi said. "And I'll bring her home in time for lunch."

Marlene had added praying hands to her begging eyes. Tifa looked back at her and laughed. "No need to bring out the big guns, Mar. You can go."

"Yay!" Marlene jumped up and down. "Come on, Lex, let's go!"

The two girls practically danced out the door. Marlene hopped into the wagon, now long past her embarrassment over being seen in it.

"Jeez, Marlene, settle down," Lexi laughed. "Tifa will never let me take you out of the bar again if you wear yourself out."

Marlene crossed her legs on the cushion in her meditating pose. "I'm totally calm. See? I'm going to be totally calm all the way to your house."

She really was, too. She was so calm that it was almost like a trance. By this time, she was sure Lexi was singing whenever she thought the noise of the wagon would cover it, but Marlene still heard. She didn't know why Lexi would be embarrassed to be heard singing anyway. Her voice was a little gravelly, but still nice. Marlene found it very soothing.

She opened her eyes when the wagon stopped. They were in front of an older, rambling house with a small porch. It was far enough from the center of the destruction to have been spared during the attack, but it looked like a good solid wind would finish it off. It may have been blue at some point, but the paint had almost completely flaked off, and the remaining bits were so faded that the color was difficult to discern.

"Here we are! Home, sweet home," Lexi announced.

Marlene got out of the wagon and followed Lexi up the rickety steps of the porch. Lexi struggled with the front door a bit. "It gets stuck," she told Marlene apologetically. She stepped back and then rushed forward, ramming the door with her shoulder. It popped open, revealing a dimly lit entryway.

"Wow," Marlene said as they stepped inside, looking around in awe. The house was old and in disrepair, but at one time it must have been beautiful. It had high ceilings, a sweeping staircase, and arched doorways. The spindles of the banister were carved into unique gargoyle faces, and she ran her fingers over them as they climbed the stairs. It clearly predated the formation of Edge. It must have been an old country home on the outskirts of Midgar.

"It was my great-grandparents' house," Lexi said. "It's seen better days, but—"

"No, it's really beautiful," Marlene insisted. "And unique. I love it."

Lexi led her through the first door at the top of the stairs. The ceiling was sharply sloped, following the angle of the roof. It reduced the usable space of the room, and Marlene thought it might even be smaller than her tiny, split bedroom.

Lexi's knitting supplies were in a bin under her bed. She pulled it out and lifted off the cover. Yarn of every color was neatly lined up in tight rolls. "Pick a color," she instructed.

Marlene scanned over them, finally settling on a beautiful pale blue. Lexi took out a pair of slender needles and held them up for Marlene's examination. "Ok, to start—"

"Wait," Marlene interrupted. "Can I use your bathroom before we start?"

"Oh, yeah," Lexi said, lowering the needles. "It's down the hall, first door on the right after you turn the corner."

"Kay," Marlene said, standing. Those shakes of Tifa's always hit her fast. She walked down the hall and turned the corner. Along the left wall was a spread of family pictures. They were badly in need of updating; Lexi was at least five years younger. Most of the pictures were of her and a boy that must be her little brother. In the center was a family photo of her with her arm around the boy, and a happy-looking couple standing behind them. They looked like the perfect family.

Marlene smiled and opened the door next to the pictures. She walked in and stopped short. It wasn't the bathroom. It looked like her brother's room. He must have really been into building. He had a bunch of small, complicated models lining the walls, and several more on the dresser that appeared to be in progress.

She picked up one of the small models on the dresser. It was incomplete, but clearly an airship. She held it up to get a closer look, admiring the tiny details. The little propeller actually moved, and the tiny doors could open and close.

"You shouldn't be in here."

Marlene spun around.

"Jojo doesn't like people in his room." It was an old woman, giving Marlene a horrible glare. And then her eyes landed on the little model in Marlene's hand, and the tiny propeller that had broken off when the old woman had startled her.

"What have you done?" she shrieked. She ran toward Marlene, moving much faster than she looked capable of. She grabbed Marlene's shirt and shook her. "You've broken it! You shouldn't be in here and now you've broken it and Jojo will be angry! What have you done?!"

Marlene was too startled to respond. The woman shook her hard, rattling her teeth.

"Mom!" Lexi rushed into the room and pulled on the woman's wrists, releasing Marlene from her grasp.

The woman's demeanor changed as she looked at her daughter. She looked like a tormented child. "Lexi, she broke it! Jojo is going to be so angry! She shouldn't have been in here!"

"I know, mom. I'll fix it, ok? Come on, let's go lie down." She put her arm around the woman's shoulder and led her from the room. She glanced back once, her eyes apologizing to Marlene as she continued murmuring comforting words to the woman.

Marlene set down the model with shaking hands. She needed to get out of that room. She rushed out and pulled the door shut behind her, wondering what she was supposed to do now. She couldn't leave. She didn't have any idea how to get home, and Tifa would be furious if she tried to walk home anyway. So she went back to Lexi's room to wait.

She sat on the bed under the sloped ceiling and hugged her knees to her chest. The shock was wearing off, and she could feel the tears coming. The woman had really scared her. And what about Jojo? She had seemed so afraid of how Jojo would react. What had she done?

The tears refused to be held back. By the time Lexi returned, Marlene was sobbing, holding her knees and shaking.

"Marlene! Oh, honey, it's ok. Don't worry about that, ok? My mom isn't…she hasn't been right in the head since…"

Marlene cried harder. She was ashamed of her weakness, but she couldn't seem to stop. Lexi sat next to her on the bed and pulled her into a hug. Then she started to sing.

It was the same haunting tune that she had sang to Marlene in the town hall, and the effect was the same, too. She felt herself calming down, relaxing into Lexi's shoulder. Her sobs died off, and with one final sigh, she quieted. She stayed there, listening to Lexi's voice, until the song was finished. She still hadn't understood any of the words, but it didn't seem to matter.

Slowly, she sat up. Lexi held out a box of tissues. Marlene took one and wiped her face. "What was that song?"

Lexi shrugged, looking bashful. "It's an old song my dad taught me. He was a sailor, and he said that he sang that song every night to keep the angry sea spirits away." Her eyes drifted off into the distance. "I guess he must have forgotten to sing it on the night he died. His ship was swallowed by the sea."

"Oh…" Marlene put her hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry. Is that what…is that why your mom is…like that?"

Lexi frowned. "No. She held herself together after he died. She had Joey and me to take care of. And then we got sick." She traced her finger absently down the right side of her face and neck. "Joey died before The Cure came. I think she blamed herself, like it was her fault because she was busy mourning my dad or something. But it was stupid! So many kids got Geostigma, not just us. I told her that so many times, but I think it was too late to get through to her. And now…she talks about Joey like he's still alive. She insists on keeping his room exactly the way he left it, like he's gonna come back some day."

Marlene was horrified. This was Lexi's daily existence? A dead father and brother and a broken mother? It was no wonder that Lexi was so maternal. She had been forced to become a parent to her own mother at a tender young age.

Marlene took Lexi's hand and squeezed it. The strength of her own hand startled her. "You're really amazing, Lexi. I had no idea you were dealing with so much."

Lexi smiled and shook her head. "It's no big deal. I'm used to it."

Marlene's eyes caught on a tattered moogle doll on the dresser that seemed somehow familiar. She rose to her feet, surprised at the lack of weakness she felt in her legs. She felt drawn to the doll, and before she knew it, the moogle was in her hands. She turned it around, examining it from all angles. It was covered in dark stains. Along the bottom of the doll's face was a sloppily repaired tear in blue thread, done with a child's inexperienced fingers. More than anything, that tugged at Marlene's heart. Was Lexi's mother already so far gone at that point that the little girl had tried to fix it herself?

"That's Kiki," Lexi said with a smile in her voice. "I used to drag her everywhere with me."

Marlene turned to her. "She looks familiar," she said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, probably," Lexi said. "When me and Joey were sick, we used to hang out in that alley behind Seventh Heaven. It was clean and not too shady, and we could watch all the people walking by without being bothered. Kiki was always there with us. When Joey was having a really bad spell, I would tell him to squeeze all of his pain onto Kiki. I told him that she was magical, and the pain would just flow right out of her."

Marlene hugged the doll to her chest. She was too old for silly things like stuffed animals, but it felt like she was hugging the tattered little girl that Lexi used to be. Then she set the moogle back on the dresser. "Can you teach me how to knit now?"

* * *

Denzel started pulling ingredients from the fridge for lunch. Tifa would be home soon and they would fix it together, but he wanted to get it started for her. A familiar clanging sound reached his ears. It had been weeks since he'd heard that. He set the broccoli on the counter and followed the sound to the training room.

Cloud was in there, in his familiar stance, but something was different. He was laughing.

"Ah, no, not like that," he said.

Then Denzel noticed the other person in the room. Niko. A surge of anger squeezed his heart.

Niko was laughing, too. "I feel like an idiot, Cloud. You've gotta show me."

Cloud walked around behind Niko and adjusted his stance. "Like this. And then when you swing–" he led Niko's arm around in an arc. "You need to pay attention to the angle of my sword if you want to block it."

Niko held one of their practice swords, but Cloud…Cloud was using Tsurugi. During training. He _hated_ using it for training.

Grinding his teeth together, Denzel headed into the equipment room. He pulled a sword off of the wall and stormed out to the center of the soft dirt floor. "Hey, Niko," he called. "Show me what you've learned."

Cloud and Niko looked over at him in surprise. "Hey, Denz," Cloud said. "Niko's really just a beginner, so—"

"That's ok," Denzel said. "I've only got one arm and I'm totally off balance, so I'm sure it will be an even match up."

Cloud looked uncertain, but he stepped back and let Denzel square off with Niko. Denzel got into his stance. Niko carefully mirrored him and gave him a nervous grin. "Go easy on me, buddy. We're just fooling around, right?"

"Of course," Denzel said lightly. And then he swung.

Niko blocked it neatly, but staggered back from the force of the blow. The clash of metal echoed off the training room walls.

"Nice block," Denzel said with a bite in his voice. "You must be a natural."

He swung again. Niko was slower this time, but he managed to get his sword around just in time. Denzel went into full offensive mode, swinging hard and fast, Niko just barely avoiding each strike, backing up as Denzel pressed forward. Two more steps, and his heel hit the wall. With one sharp flick, Denzel disarmed him, and Niko's sword went flying through the air. He raised his sword over his head, angled toward Niko's vulnerable neck. Time slowed to a crawl. He could see the beads of sweat dripping down Niko's temple, stark fear in his eyes. The adrenaline pumped through Denzel's veins, muting the sound of everything around him. It felt surreal, like a dream. He felt powerful. Unstoppable. Something inside of him clamored for him to do it. Just one sharp push is all it would take.

A hard yank on his arm brought reality crashing back around him. He stumbled backwards and fell. Cloud stood over him, anger radiating from every pore. "What is _wrong_ with you?" he demanded.

Denzel looked over at Niko, leaning against the wall for support. The man was breathing hard, shaking, and looking at Denzel with some new emotion. Had he really actually considered stabbing him? It wasn't like him. Sure, he didn't like the guy, he didn't trust him, but he wouldn't actually kill someone…would he?"

"Denzel! Look at me!" Cloud ordered.

His eyes went back to Cloud. "What?" he challenged. "Just a friendly spar. I thought he could handle it. He's a soldier, isn't he?"

Denzel got to his feet and pushed past Cloud.

"Denzel!" Cloud grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

Denzel stared back defiantly. Cloud's eyes flickered back and forth between his, but finally he pressed his lips together. "We'll talk later," he growled.

"Fine. Whatever," Denzel said. As he turned his back and walked away, he heard Cloud again.

"Gods, Niko, are you ok? I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what—"

 _Of course, comforting Niko,_ he thought bitterly. _At least I know where I stand now._


	10. Chapter 10 - Friendship

**A/N:** I thought for sure that someone would call it out when they figured out which canon character Lexi and her little brother were. If you know it, put it in the comments. Imaginary points to the first person who gets it!

* * *

 **Chapter 10 - Friendship**

Marlene and Lexi paraded through the front door of Seventh Heaven at lunch time. They had barely made it past the doormat before Marlene realized that something was very wrong.

Cloud, Tifa, Denzel, and Niko sat at the table, ready for lunch, but no one was talking. No one looked up at the girls who had just noisily entered the bar.

Niko was subdued for the first time since he'd arrived. Cloud's eyes were almost sparking with anger. Denzel sulked moodily. Tifa was looking warily from one man to the next, begging for information with her eyes.

The girls hesitated. They could have cut through the tension with a knife. Luckily, Marlene was freshly sharpened.

"Hello everyone! Guess what I learned to do today?"

Four pairs of eyes reluctantly rolled over to Marlene. Four pairs of eyes widened dramatically. Tifa jumped up from her chair. "Marlene! You look…" She shook her head in amazement. "What did you do today?"

"I learned to knit!" Marlene cried happily.

Tifa blinked in surprise. "That's great sweetie, but I meant…you look wonderful! What…what happened to you?"

Marlene looked perplexed. "I dunno. I just feel really good today."

Tifa strode over and put her hands on Marlene's cheeks, tilting back her head to get a closer look in the light. She stroked her hand over her dark locks, feeling the softness that wasn't there earlier that morning. "But you…" Tifa shook her head and smiled tearfully. "Oh well. Come and eat, girls."

"Thanks, but I actually need to get home," Lexi said. "See you tomorrow, Mars?"

"Yep!" Marlene chirped. "Bye!"

Lexi studiously avoided looking at anyone the table, but she grinned and waved to Marlene and Tifa before letting herself out. Tifa led Marlene over to her seat and sat her down, as if afraid the girl would disappear if she stopped touching her.

"Tifa, I'm not going to break," she said in exasperation.

Tifa petted her hair one last time before returning to sit in her own chair across the table.

"You look like you gained 10 pounds since this morning!" Denzel blurted.

Marlene looked at him haughtily. "That's not a very proper thing to say to a girl."

Denzel rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, Mar. You look really good. Did Lexi give you some kind of medicine?"

She dumped some macaroni noodles onto her plate. "Nope."

"What about something you ate?" Tifa asked. "Some new kind of vegetable or root?" She was always looking for "natural" ways of healing – medication was a last resort for her, especially after the effects the ether had had on her.

"Nope," Marlene repeated.

She continued to deny that she had done anything new as the others continued questioning her. At the same time, she kept an eye on Niko. He had shown initial interest in her improvement, but something was different about him. Something had changed. Something big had happened while she was out, and she intended to find out what it was.

She watched the adults carefully as they finished lunch. Just as she expected, Cloud quietly asked Niko if he could cover for him for a few minutes at the construction site. Marlene knew exactly what that meant. Cloud and Tifa were going to talk.

Unfortunately, it was Denzel's job to do the dishes, so they wouldn't be using the kitchen for their chat. That left the bar area as the most likely place for their talk, and Marlene didn't have a good listening post when they talked in there. But, considering the gravity of their expressions, she decided that it was worth the risk of getting caught.

While the others were still at the table, she got up and casually walked behind the bar. Then, she calmly sat down on the floor, hiding herself from view from all angles except if someone actually came behind the bar. She would have no legitimate excuse if someone _did_ see her, though, which was a risk she didn't usually take.

She heard Niko get up and leave. Even his walk sounded different. His steps were hesitant. He lacked the brash confidence that she had come to expect from him, and it only affirmed her decision that this was too important to miss.

"Where did Marlene go?" Denzel suddenly asked.

Behind the bar, Marlene cringed.

"She probably went up to take her nap," Tifa said.

Marlene held her breath, waiting for someone to disagree, but no objection came. The clattering of dishes told her that they were done eating and bringing them to the kitchen. She scooted forward to see through the thin space at the side of the bar. A moment later, Cloud and Tifa came back through the door.

"Cloud, tell me what's going on. Why is everyone acting so weird?" Tifa demanded as she pulled out her chair.

Cloud sat down with a sigh. "Denzel is…something's wrong with him, Teef. I think he…I don't know."

Tifa sat down, too. "Complete sentences, Cloud," she said with a trace of irritation.

"I don't even know where to start," Cloud said, sounding frustrated.

"Just tell me what happened today. We can try to figure out the 'why' from there."

"Ok," Cloud said, rubbing at his face. "Well, Niko asked if I could show him how to use a sword. So we left a little early for lunch and came back here to the training room. Denzel must have heard us, and he came storming in and challenged Niko."

Tifa scoffed. "And you let him?"

Cloud held up his hands in the universal 'I don't know' gesture. "I thought maybe he wanted to show off a little, you know? He wanted to join the WRO once. Niko's a soldier, and he's not that much older than Denzel, so…I don't know. I thought maybe he admired him."

Marlene did a mental face palm. How was it possible that Cloud could be so bad at reading people? Anyone could see that Denzel detested the guy.

Tifa pressed her lips together, but chose not to point this out to Cloud. "Ok, so what happened next?"

Cloud leaned back in the chair. "It seemed ok at first. Denzel was being pretty aggressive, but Niko was managing to block. But then Denzel backed him to the wall and disarmed him and then…" He paused, struggling with the memory of the next part. "I think…I think he would have… well, he looked like he was about to stab him."

Marlene gasped out loud, then clamped her hand over her mouth. Luckily, Tifa had reacted vehemently, covering the tiny noise from behind the bar. "That's ridiculous, Cloud! Maybe he was just trying to scare Niko or something. They don't…get along very well, I know, but I've never seen Denzel lose control of his temper."

Cloud raised his eyebrows. "Really? The kitchen?"

Marlene winced. They hadn't even seen his manic assault on the practice dummy.

"Ok, fine," Tifa conceded. "But that's a whole lot different from trying to kill someone."

Cloud nodded, rubbing his chin absently. "Maybe he wasn't going to. But he had this look in his eyes—"

The kitchen door flew open from the other side. "Tifa, do you want—" Denzel's eyes flickered between Cloud and Tifa. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt…"

"It's ok," Tifa said, standing up. "We were just about to leave anyway." She shot Cloud a significant ' _We'll talk later'_ look.

Marlene slumped down in her hiding place in the bar. She didn't know if she'd be able to overhear _later_.

* * *

Marlene and Lexi were sprawled out on the sun-warmed, rubbery material of the playground, in the park that had now become their place.

"Hey Lexi?" Marlene asked.

"Hmm?" Lexi's eyes were closed. She looked like she was utterly relaxed, and Marlene felt a little bad, knowing that she was about to ruin it.

"You know that thing you do, when you sing to me and I feel better?"

"Mm hmm," Lexi said.

"How does it work?"

Lexi opened her eyes, squinting against the sudden brightness of the sun, and rolled her head toward Marlene. "What do you mean? I guess it just relaxes you and it makes you feel happier."

Marlene rolled to her side and propped herself up on one arm. "Lexi, you're either lying to _me_ or to _yourself_. You know that song is doing something to heal me. You knew it would do something for the man in the town hall, too."

Lexi sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on top. She stared off into the distance. "I don't really know," she said softly. "I just got this really strong urge to do it. It seemed like it was doing something, but I thought it was all in my head. Like, it was just a coincidence and I was fooling myself."

Marlene shook her head. "It's definitely doing something." She sat up and crossed her legs, facing Lexi. "What does it feel like?"

Lexi gave her a strange smile. "Actually, it's really weird. I get this tingling feeling down the right side of my neck and arm, like right where my Geostigma used to be."

That gave Marlene pause. Could it be related to her Geostigma? She shook it off. She didn't see how it could be. And anyway, Aerith had cured it. "When did it start happening?" she asked.

"I guess the first time was about 3 years ago. I saw this sick little boy. He reminded me so much of Joey, and all I could think about was making him feel better. It was like I was drawn to him. And I knelt down next to him, held his hand and sang that song, and he just stopped crying. This smile came over his face and he just relaxed and closed his eyes. He looked so peaceful. I didn't know if he got better or anything, though. I never saw him again. I thought it just calmed him."

Marlene chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "And when you sing to me? Do you feel drawn to me, too?"

"Sometimes," Lexi shrugged. "Like the times that you were really upset, I felt it really strongly. But then I started just trying it on my own. I've been humming or singing around you, and it doesn't feel the same, but I still thought it might help. And then, when nothing happens for a while, I start to get convinced that it's all in my imagination."

"It's definitely helping," Marlene said. "It just not as drastic as those other times."

Lexi picked at a piece of rubber. "I've been trying it with my mom," she admitted softly. "It didn't seem to help at first, but after that day…that day when she found you in Joey's room…I sang to calm her down. And after that, she seemed so much better. She doesn't get her migraines nearly as often, and she doesn't talk about Jojo all the time. She doesn't act like he's still alive." She looked up, her eyes wide, needing someone to understand. "It feels like there's something there, Marlene. There's something inside of me, but I don't know what it is and I don't know how to control it."

Marlene gave her an encouraging smile. "Maybe you just have to experiment a little bit. See what works and what doesn't."

Lexi laughed. "Will you let me experiment on you?" she joked.

"Of course!" Marlene said sincerely, grabbing on to her hand. "You know, I didn't think I would ever get better. I was just gonna be this weakling for the rest of my life. But since I've been spending time with you, since I've started feeling better, I have hope again. So, yeah. I'll do whatever it takes to help you figure it out."

Lexi beamed and got to her feet. "Ok, partner. We'd better get back for lunch." Marlene was still holding her hand, so she pulled her up at the same time. They walked back to the wagon together. Lexi picked up the handle, but Marlene just looked at the wagon thoughtfully.

"You know what? I don't think I need the wagon anymore. I'm gonna walk!"

Lexi's grin lit up her face. "That's awesome, Mars! I'll pull it anyway, and if you get tired along the way, you just hop in."

Marlene was so relieved that, for once, she didn't have to convince someone that she could do something. In fact, she felt like she could do anything.

* * *

Once again, the mood of Seventh Heaven was tense and somber when the girls walked in. Tifa looked up and forced a smile. "Hi, girls. Are you staying for lunch today, Lexi?"

Marlene looked around. Cloud and Denzel sat at the table, competing to see who could look the most sullen. "Where's Niko?" she asked.

"He's uh, he's eating with Jerry today," Tifa said, failing her attempt to make it sound normal.

"Sure, I'll stay for lunch Mrs…Tifa," Lexi answered.

The five of them sat down around the table – three girls trying to make conversation and two boys scowling through the whole meal.

"Marlene, you're really starting to look better!" Tifa exclaimed.

Marlene smiled. "It must be your shakes, Tifa. I know you work hard to make them, and I really appreciate it."

Tifa looked taken aback. "Oh," she said with a flush spreading across her face. "Well, you know I'd do anything to help you get better, Mar."

Tifa was in an exceptionally good mood after that. She chattered on about the reconstruction and how much faster it was going now that the WRO soldiers were there to help. Denzel's scowl deepened even farther.

Her euphoric mood seemed to bleed over to Cloud, though, who was watching her with a slight smile. She was practically glowing, and it seemed like whatever was bothering him (issues with Denzel, probably, but there was really no limit to the number of things Cloud was capable of brooding over) was pushed to the back of his mind for the time being.

A familiar dull thunk sounded outside of the bar – the mail had arrived. Cloud went out to get it, leaving Tifa to continue her story. He came back in with an open letter in his hand, reading as he walked. His eyes scanning across the page, he closed the front door of the bar with his foot.

"Hey, guys, looks like school is restarting on Monday," he announced, looking up from the letter as soon as Tifa took a breath. "The building isn't fully repaired, but we've got all the main classrooms cleaned up."

Denzel muttered under his breath, but Marlene and Lexi were practically bouncing in their seats.

"Yes! _Finally_!" Marlene cried, clapping her hands together.

"Ooh I can't wait!" Lexi agreed. Then her face shifted into a frown. "Oh, except I never finished that Physics report."

Marlene laughed. "You still have the weekend," she pointed out.

"Yeah," Lexi said sadly. She didn't seem quite so excited anymore, now that she'd remembered that part of school.

"Hey, when you do have your lunch period?" Marlene asked Lexi.

"Fourth period. When's yours?" Lexi asked.

"Oh. Fifth," Marlene said, disappointed. "I guess we won't be able to sit together at lunch." Since they were a few years apart, they didn't cross paths often, but there was only one school in Edge and several grades shared the same lunch period.

"That's too bad," Lexi said with a sigh. "Well, thanks for lunch, Tifa! It was great, as always. I better get home and get to work on that report."

Marlene grinned. "Good luck! Maybe later we can work on that _other_ project together."

Lexi perked up a bit as she slipped her feet into her shoes by the door. "Yeah! Sounds great. Later, Mars!"

"Later!" Marlene waved. They had come to an agreement not to tell anyone else about Lexi's ability for now, at least until they had a better idea of what it was and how it worked. Adults had a tendency to scoff at the fanciful ideas of children when they didn't have proof.

Marlene spun back around after seeing her friend off, and instantly the smile was wiped off her face. Denzel had already skulked off into the kitchen with the dirty dishes. Cloud and Tifa were having an intense whispered discussion at the table, and they looked up at her with that _we're-gonna-say-no_ expression.

Marlene crossed her arms. "Don't you _dare_ tell me I can't go back to school," she ordered.

Tifa stood and held her arms out. "Honey, we're just not sure if you're well enough yet." She took two steps toward the girl, but Marlene backed away.

" _Please_ , Tifa!" she begged. "You don't understand how badly I need this. And it's not like I'm getting better just sitting here!"

Tifa just shook her head. She looked pained.

"Cloud?" Marlene turned her puppy dog eyes on him, but she didn't have much hope. Cloud always sided with Tifa.

Except this time, he hesitated. "We'll talk about it more tonight before we decide for sure," he said, glancing over at Tifa. "We both need to get back right now."

Marlene's eyes dropped as she fought back the lump in her throat. It wasn't fair! She was bored out of her mind at home. She actually _liked_ learning, and now that she had a friend there, she could look forward to seeing her at school.

She felt a warm hand on her arm. It was the kind of heat that could only come from Cloud and his mako-thick blood. She looked up and found compassion in his eyes.

He gave her a tiny smile. "We'll figure it out. Ok?"

Marlene nodded and stiffened her spine. She still had a chance to convince them.

The gentle look on his face changed to irritation when Denzel's angry music started pouring out from the kitchen. He gave Marlene one last affectionate rub on the head before going out the front door after Tifa.

With a sigh, she turned and walked into the kitchen. Denzel didn't even look up, but she didn't really _need_ him to get the shake for her. She got her own glass and opened the fridge. There in front was the pitcher of Tifa's most recent batch. Her hand shook a little from the weight of the full pitcher, but she could tell she was getting stronger. She set the glass and the pitcher on the counter behind her before shutting the fridge.

"Is that even doing anything?" Denzel asked dryly as she poured.

"What?" Marlene had been startled to hear him speak at all, and he was talking even louder than usual to be heard over the music. Taken together, the question sounded pretty harsh in her ears.

"Why do you bother drinking that? Just dump it out. Tifa will never know."

Marlene scowled and looked closely at Denzel. She couldn't understand why he was so angry lately. The boy who had held her and comforted her all night long when she was scared, who agreed to sit at a little girl's tea party, even though he thought they were 'so dumb', who made up sweet stories of knights and princesses to help her sleep, would never even have thought of such a thing.

"I mean, can you honestly tell me there's a good reason to keep drinking those things?" he asked scornfully.

The light caught his eye strangely, and for a moment they looked more green than blue, but she blinked and it was gone. She shook her head. "I don't know. They might be doing something."

Denzel scoffed. "Don't be so naïve, Marlene."

He went back to his dishes, violently scrubbing at a pan, and Marlene took her drink up to her room. She knelt in front of the wall next to her bed, looking for the faint outline of a drawing he had made for her long ago. She traced her fingers over the slight indentations in the wall from his pencil. Denzel was a really good artist, even back then, and the princess kicking the dragon's butt couldn't be mistaken for anyone but Tifa. He had drawn it to cheer her up after a particularly tough weekend. Where did that boy go?

* * *

 _Knock, knock_.

With a sigh, Denzel turned off his music and sat up on the bed. "Come in."

He knew this talk was coming. He knew he would have to explain his actions from the day before. He was grateful that Cloud had waited an extra day before approaching him – whether to allow himself or Denzel to cool off, he didn't know – but he still had no idea what he was going to say.

Cloud came in and closed the door. He leaned against it, crossing his arms, saying nothing, just dissecting Denzel with his disturbingly bright eyes. He wondered if Cloud knew how intimidating he looked, standing like that with the muscles of his arms bulging against his chest. He assumed he did, since it was the way he always confronted someone. The thing was, to Denzel, those arms had always meant security. Even now, knowing he was in trouble, they only made him feel safe.

He was suddenly flooded with shame. Cloud had entrusted him with the hard-earned knowledge of years of training by teaching him those skills, and he had abused them. "Look, I…I didn't mean to let it get so out of hand. I wouldn't have hurt him. I just…"

"Are you sure?" Cloud asked softly.

That was not what Denzel had expected. Was he that transparent? The truth was, he _wasn't_ sure. "I—I don't know. That's what I tell myself but…" Of all the things Denzel didn't imagine happening in this discussion, he was most unprepared for the tears that sprang to his eyes.

Cloud came and sat at the end of the bed. "Denzel, tell me what you felt like when that was happening."

Denzel blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. He searched deep within himself. He sensed that the answer was important somehow. "I felt like…it was just this rush of anger. I just wanted to give him what he deserved."

"And why did he deserve that?" Cloud asked. "What did he do to deserve being…hurt like that?" Even Cloud couldn't bring himself to say what Denzel might have done.

"He…" _What did he do? I thought he hurt Marlene, but he didn't. He's arrogant, but is that enough of a reason to…_ A burst of anger spread through his body. _They all like him better than you. He's stronger. He makes them laugh. Cloud was training him and he even let him sleep in his office. They were_ replacing _you, Denzel._

Cloud sat up straight and grabbed Denzel's shoulders. "Denzel? What happened just now?"

The anger faded away. "What?"

"Something changed. Your eyes were…" Cloud shook his head. "What were you feeling just now? What were you thinking?"

"I—I was angry. Thinking about Niko. What about my eyes?"

"How did you feel when you were fighting Niko?" Cloud pressed.

"I don't know," Denzel said, frowning. "It was just really overwhelming anger. I felt…out of control."

Cloud's eyes were unfocused, moving rapidly, putting something together in his head. "No…it can't be. She fixed it. It's gone."

"Cloud?"

Cloud stood up suddenly, releasing his grip on Denzel. "Denzel, I don't want you to have any access to weapons or materia for now."

"What?" Denzel stood too. "What do you mean, 'for now'? For how long?"

"Until I can get something figured out." Cloud grabbed Denzel's materia box and Skoll. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Denzel in stunned silence.

* * *

Marlene sat in the center of the training room. She was deep in meditation. She knew that Tifa didn't want her using materia, but it didn't make any sense to her. Her mind felt completely refreshed, and healing honestly made her feel calm, at least when done in moderation.

She couldn't stand this angry Denzel. She hated seeing him so frustrated, unable to do anything with his arm. And how would he handle school without his hand? What if he lost his temper there? What if he hurt one of the kids again? If she could prove to everyone that healing wouldn't be putting her in danger, maybe she could convince them to let her fix him. And if she could fix him, maybe they would see that she was strong enough to go to school.

But first, she needed something to cure. After making sure that the kitchen was empty, she pulled a sharp knife from the butcher's block by the back door and snuck it out to the training room. She figured that was the best place to do her experiment uninterrupted, and a little more blood soaked into the dirt floor wouldn't raise any eyebrows.

She could hear the voices in the lifestream loud and clear. Tifa had told her that she couldn't understand what they were saying, but Marlene had always been able to hear words. She didn't know what they meant because they were in another language, but she heard the same words repeated often when she called on them for healing.

She held Tifa's mastered cure materia in one hand, the knife in the other. Bracing herself, she quickly cut a small slice just above her knee. It didn't hurt as badly as she'd feared. She closed her eyes and traced the path in her body to the wound. She recognized all the structures as she passed them – veins, arteries, bones, muscles, tissue – and could move forward or backwards, faster or slower as she watched everything like a movie in her head. The clarity was amazing. It must have been all the healing she had done in the town hall. Like a muscle pushed far beyond its capabilities, sore and resistant at first, but rebuilt stronger than before, she had unprecedented control. The wound called to her like a siren, pulsing and throbbing. She sped toward it along with the blood, the red and white blood cells who would shortly have no work to do.

When she reached the wound, she looked at it from the inside. Her body was already hard at work, clotting the blood and beginning to seal up the torn flesh. She was fascinated by this new view and understanding of how her body worked, but she was there to practice healing, not appreciate biology. She pulled a surge of the lifestream toward the wound, and with only a second to appreciate the cool tingling sensation, it was healed.

Marlene opened her eyes and smiled. She wiped away the tiny stream of blood that had escaped with her hand, seeing no trace of the cut she had inflicted on her leg. But then she realized that she had no way to clean up the smear of blood on her hand. She had worn shorts and a tank top, so the skin of her arms and legs was free and accessible, but she hadn't brought any bandages or cloth to clean it up. With a shrug, she wiped the hand on the dirt floor. She would just have to leave it until she could sneak up to the bathroom to rinse off the rest.

Feeling encouraged, she cut a bigger slice on her forearm, wincing only slightly . This one was a bit more painful, but only for a second. She zoomed right to it and sealed it up in seconds. After several more small cuts, she knew she needed to go deeper. She was only cutting skin, and with Denzel, she would need to fix muscles and bones and (gulp) nerves.

Marlene really didn't like pain, but she wasn't confident enough in her ability to fix something other than skin. Before, she had seen a blurry view of a person's insides, and she could send the lifestream in a surge in the general direction of damage. That wouldn't do for Denzel's injury. She would have to carefully cut and correctly re-fuse cells. She needed pinpoint accuracy, which meant that she needed to be able to see the cut in the muscle.

Mentally preparing herself, Marlene bent her right leg and rested her ankle above her left knee, exposing her right calf. She held the knife over the clear flesh, hovering for just a moment before slashing down, cutting as deep as she could stand. The blood gushed out, much faster than before. She bit down on her lip, hard, holding back the yell that wanted to escape. Gaia, that hurt. Trying hard to ignore the pain (and it was much more persistent this time), she closed her eyes and was practically dragged to the site of the injury. She scanned the area. There was the cut, a gaping wound where blood was surging to meet it. It was harder to see this time. Blood flowed everywhere, moving too fast to push out of the way. Digging deeper into that part of her mind, she mentally held back the blood. It was only for a few seconds, but it was long enough to slam her with disbelief.

The muscle was untouched. She had cut through layers of skin, deeper than any of the others, but she still hadn't hit the muscle. She couldn't take it anymore. She sent a surge of healing up to the cut and felt an instant relief. The pain faded away, leaving only a memory of the intense throbbing that had taken over her body.

Marlene opened her eyes and let herself fall back on the dirt floor, leaving the blood dripping from the unbroken skin of her leg. How in the world was she supposed to do this to herself? It hurt so much. She hadn't been able to force herself to push any deeper. She stared up at the high ceiling of the training room and wondered if she was crazy. The fact that she was putting herself through that kind of pain was crazy enough, but did she really think she had the ability to fix Denzel? She was just a kid.

 _'You have the ability to see into others' hearts. You see past the masks they put up….Use it well, Marlene.'_

No, that wasn't true. She wasn't just any kid. She had been entrusted with the gift of the last living ancient. She was the _only_ one who could fix Denzel.

With determination in her heart, Marlene sat up. She looked at the blood smeared all over her arms and legs, now mixing with the loose dirt of the floor. She looked at the blood covering the sharp edge of the knife. It wasn't nearly enough. If she was going to do this, she needed to just suck it up and do it. She couldn't slice deep enough; the pain stopped her from pushing as far as she needed to. She was just going to have to stab. Do it quick, get it over with, and get it healed.

 _Ok. Ok. I can do this. One…two…wait wait wait! Not ready yet._

Marlene set down the knife on her lap and wiped her sweaty palms on the dirt floor until they were dry. Taking several deep breaths to calm herself, she carefully picked up the knife again and gave herself a pep talk.

 _Pain isn't really that bad. Cloud and Tifa and Denzel get hurt all the time! I'm just being a baby. It only hurts because I think it will._

 _It's not going to hurt. That much._

 _Besides, Denzel's counting on me. Remember the day he found me in the Wasteland? He covered for me with Cloud and Tifa. And he even cast that fire on Jesse because he was making rude comments about me. He's just…cranky lately. But the old Denzel, he's still in there. He's still my brother. He would do it for me._

 _Ok. Ok, I'm ready this time._

Marlene lifted her arm over her head, the knife gripped firmly in her hand. With one final breath, she drove the knife down, stabbing it into her thigh.

The pain was instant. It was blinding in its intensity. This time, she couldn't hold it back. This time, she screamed.

 _Omigods omigods omigods it hurts worse than I remember. Hurts so bad, so, so bad, daddy make it stop, please make it stop._

But, as usual, Barret wasn't there.

* * *

Denzel was putting away the last of the dishes when he heard the scream. It stabbed him like a sword through his heart. He dropped his dishtowel and burst through the training room doors.

 _It's another nightmare. I'm dreaming. This can't be real. This_ can't be _real!_

Marlene's face was the color of death. There was blood everywhere. It was all over her, on her arms and legs, her clothes, and pooled below her in the dirt. And then he saw the knife. It was buried to the hilt in her thigh.

For a moment, he was too shocked to move. His brain stumbled over the image, refusing to make sense of it. But then she looked up. Tears were streaming from her big brown eyes and she was crying loudly. Everything clicked into place. Marlene needed him.

He shook off the paralyzing fear and ran to her, skidding next to her on his knees.

"Marlene! What – what happened? Who—how—"

He couldn't formulate a question. He shook his head helplessly. "I'm going to call Cloud, Mar. Just stay right here."

Before he could move, a small hand snaked out and grasped his wrist. She squeezed it and shook her head vehemently. "Don't!" was all she managed to spit out.

Denzel blinked. _She must be in shock. She doesn't know what she's saying._ He tried to gently peel her fingers off, but she only squeezed tighter.

"I promise I'll come right back, Mar. I just need to call Cloud. He's going to help you."

"No! Don't call Cloud!" she wheezed. "You can't tell them."

"What are you talking about?" Denzel asked desperately. "You're hurt bad, Mar. He'll know what to do."

"I can fix it!" she insisted, finally opening her eyes to look at him. "I need to heal it. I need to do it myself. Please, Denzel. Just trust me."

Denzel didn't know what to say. His eyes flickered to the knife, to her eyes, back to the knife again.

"I just – I need your help. I need to pull it out so I can heal it, but it hurts so bad, I can't do it myself. I swear, I know what I'm doing."

Her puppy dog eyes pleaded with him. She really did seem coherent, and he never could say 'no' to that look. He sighed. "Ok, fine, but if you don't fix it right away, I'm calling them anyway."

"Ok, deal," Marlene said desperately, releasing his hand.

Denzel settled in on his knees, making sure he was stable. He gripped the handle of the knife with his good hand. "Are you ready? I'll count to three."

Marlene nodded and squeezed her eyes closed.

"One…..two…." and he yanked out the knife.

Immediately, blood gushed out like a geyser. Her scream was even more shrill this time.

Denzel panicked. He didn't know what to do. But it didn't matter. In the next instant, pain was shooting up and down his arm. He had been hauled up to his feet, his arm twisted painfully behind his back. His hand opened and dropped the knife.

"Look at me, Denzel!" Cloud ordered as he roughly grabbed Denzel's face.

Denzel didn't have a choice, since his head was forcibly turned, but he flinched when he met the flaring red in Cloud's eyes.

"What did you do?" Cloud demanded.

"I…I didn't…nothing!" Denzel stuttered. The fingers on his face and arm felt like they were burning him.

Cloud released his wrist and shoved him away roughly. "Get out of here," he growled as Denzel stumbled and fell. He turned his attention back to Marlene, not even waiting to see if Denzel obeyed. Of course, no one in their right mind would disobey an order like that from Cloud. He pulled a large strip of gauze from one of his many pockets and pressed it against her leg.

"It's ok," Cloud said, pushing a sweaty lock of hair out of her face. "It looks clean. I know it hurts, but we can heal it, ok?"

"Denzel…" Marlene said through gritted teeth.

"Don't worry about him," Cloud said soothingly. "I'll deal with him later."

"Denzel…stay!" she gasped.

Cloud looked over at Denzel warily. He was almost out of the training room by then, but he heard her plea and paused at the door.

"He…didn't…do it," she ground out.

Cloud stared at her, probably trying to decide if she was telling the truth. "Fine. Denzel, get over here," he finally said. Denzel scurried over and knelt down next to her again. Cloud placed Denzel's hand on top of the gauze, which was already soaking through. "Keep pressure on this," he directed. "I just need to grab my materia."

As soon as he left, Marlene whimpered. "I can't hear them, Denzel! It hurts so much and I can't hear them!"

Denzel knew instantly what she meant. "I know, the pain makes it hard to focus. But you can do it. Close your eyes."

She closed her eyes, her face still twisted in pain.

"Remember that day in Costa del Sol? Remember the Barret sand castle?"

Marlene's face relaxed a bit. Encouraged, he kept going.

"Remember how we played chicken on their shoulders in the water? And beach volleyball?"

Her face relaxed a bit more, and a smile played on the corners of her lips.

"Now remember that night," he said, but in the next moment he could see that she didn't need any more prompts. The materia clenched in her fist glowed bright green through her fingertips.

The next 30 seconds dragged on for Denzel. He could see that she was doing something, so he let her concentrate, but it took every ounce of willpower not to ask if she was ok. Finally, she opened her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled at Denzel.

"I did it! It worked! I can fix you, Denz!"

Denzel looked at her uncertainly. "Well that's…really good. Assuming that Cloud lets me live."

Marlene gave him an apologetic smile. "I'll explain it to him. It just…I'm sure it looked really bad. You had the bloody knife in your hand and—"

Cloud ran back into the room, skidding to a stop next to her. She was completely calm now, no longer whimpering in pain, although still covered in blood.

She smiled serenely up at him. "I'm good, Cloud. I healed it!"

Cloud knelt down by her side. There was no avoiding the large pool of blood, so both he and Denzel were sitting in it now. He wiped her leg with the gauze. Under the blood, her skin was unblemished. His brow furrowed and he looked up at her. "Marlene, what happened? Who did this to you?"

"I did," Marlene said bravely.

"What?" Cloud shook his head helplessly. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

She raised her chin. "Because I'm tired of being weak and helpless. I'm the only one who can fix Denzel's arm and you guys won't let me. You don't even think I'm strong enough to go to school! But I'm stronger now. I _know_ I can do this."

Cloud ran a hand through his hair, smearing the pale spikes with red. "You did this to prove a point to us? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? What if you couldn't heal yourself? What if you passed out from the blood loss? What if I hadn't come home that exact second?"

Marlene shrugged, suddenly feeling very small. Cloud was really distraught. Maybe it had been a mistake to try doing this behind their backs. He looked so lost.

"Marlene…go get cleaned up," he said finally. "We'll talk when Tifa gets home."

Marlene stood up, suddenly realizing that she was almost completely covered in her own blood. She stepped gingerly, but there was no avoiding stepping in the dirty pool of it. Denzel hurried behind her. He didn't seem anxious to spend any time alone with Cloud.

They both removed their shoes before leaving the training room. Tifa really had issues with them tracking blood all over the house. At the door, Marlene looked back. Cloud was still sitting in the same spot, staring at the huge pool of blood. She ducked her head and hurried into the kitchen.

When she reached the stairs, the first wave of dizziness hit her. She grabbed the banister, trying to hide it from Denzel, but her legs were shaking.

"Whoa!" Denzel wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. "Are you ok, Mar? That was a ton of blood."

Marlene suddenly felt like crying. She was overwhelmed. She forced herself to nod. "Just help me up the stairs. And don't tell Cloud about it, ok?"

Denzel sighed as she looped an arm over his shoulders. He didn't answer, but he carried most of her weight up the stairs. Once they had made it safely to the bathroom, he sat her on the edge of the tub. "I won't tell Cloud on one condition," he said quietly.

Marlene looked up at him.

"Don't ever do something like that on your own again. Cloud's right. That could've been really bad."

"I didn't mean to scare you guys," she said softly.

"Just promise," Denzel said.

Marlene looked down. "Ok. I promise."

Denzel nodded. "Ok." He left, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Denzel trudged down the stairs in clean clothes. Tifa had lectured him more than once about letting blood dry on his clothes, so he carried his soiled pants down to the big industrial sink in the kitchen. Cloud was already standing there, spraying his own pants with the hand sprayer.

He glanced up when Denzel approached. He held his hand out. "I'll do yours, too."

Denzel handed over his pants. Cloud took them and then did a double take, examining Denzel's face. There were angry red marks below his cheekbones.

"What happened to you?" Cloud questioned.

Denzel didn't say anything. Instead, he held up his arm. A much larger red area was there, clearly a burn, clearly in the shape of a hand.

Cloud dropped the wet clothes into the sink. "I did that." It wasn't a question. He wiped his hands on his shirt and held one out toward Denzel. Instintively, Denzel took a step back. Hurt flashed across Cloud's eyes, but his hand glowed green and Denzel felt the cooling relief of the burns being healed.

Turning back toward the sink, Cloud braced his hands on the edge and looked down. "I'm sorry. Sometimes, when I'm really emotional, I just…lose control of it."

Denzel nodded. "Ok." He turned away and walked back across the kitchen. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Cloud spoke again.

"Don't let Marlene try to fix you without us there."

Denzel paused. _Without us there? Did that mean they were going to let her do it?_ But all he said was "Ok," and then continued up the stairs.

He went into his bedroom and shut the door. His head was a mess. His forehead was itching again. He didn't want to draw, though. He just wanted to lie in the dark and close his eyes. Collapsing on the bed was a relief.

He threw his arm across his eyes, blocking the meager light leaking between the blinds. How did things get like this? Did Cloud really have so little trust in him? He'd had no problem believing that Denzel would hurt Marlene. A year ago, or maybe even just a few months ago, Cloud would have _known_ that he would be helping her.

Denzel just wanted to go back to the way things used to be. He wanted to crowd around Cloud's desk with Marlene, helping him draw out his route for the next day. He wanted to sit on the floor of the garage and hand tools to Cloud while he worked on Fenrir. He wanted to draw on the walls with chalk and make Marlene smile. He wanted two hands that worked.

It all came back to Jesse. Stupid Jesse making rude comments about Cloud and then Denzel losing his temper. Anger burned in his chest. _It's all Jesse's fault. Your whole world is falling apart and all he got was a black eye. It's not fair. Not fair! He needs to pay for it._ In his mind, he pictured all the ways he could get his revenge. His sword would be the most fun, but he would never get away with it. He wondered if he could get his hands on some different kinds of materia that wouldn't be traced back to him. Poison, maybe? Frog? No, that was too obvious.

His bedroom door burst open and Marlene whispered loudly. "Denzel, come into my room! Cloud and Tifa are talking about us."

The anger only flared brighter. "Go away, Marlene," he said bitterly.

"But—"

"Go AWAY."

He said it loudly, and there was a good chance that Cloud heard him from downstairs, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything but revenge.

* * *

The rebuff from Denzel stung. She felt betrayed. They were in this together for a little while, but now he had gone back to Angry Teen Denzel. She wanted to sit by the vent with him like they used to do as kids when it was _their_ room. They would eavesdrop together and whisper about what they thought the adults meant, or what they thought was causing those strange banging sounds, and why Cloud and Tifa weren't investigating it. They had never gotten up the courage to go investigate it themselves.

She sighed and traced over the old drawing on the wall with her fingers. It was no use wishing for the past. She forced herself to pay attention to what they were saying.

Cloud was in full angst mode. His heavy boots paced across the floor. "I don't know what I'm doing, Teef. I'm not a parent. I can't raise kids. I'm just not good for them. Marlene almost killed herself and I don't even know who Denzel is anymore. I don't know how to talk to him or how or when I'm supposed to discipline him. I—" His footsteps stopped. His voice was full of defeat. "I can't even trust myself not to accidentally hurt them anymore."

"Cloud—" Tifa started.

The footsteps started again, with a purpose this time.

Her voice turned sharp. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to take a drive," Cloud responded bitterly. He was already farther away, his heavy steps almost to the kitchen door.

"Don't you _dare_." Tifa's tone was chilling. "You don't get to run away and leave me to deal with this—"

"I'm not leaving, I'm just—"

"Even for one night," she finished.

His footsteps stopped, and her lighter steps moved toward him. " _Nobody_ knows what they're doing when it comes to kids, Cloud. Even real parents. They just do the best they can and hope they're not screwing them up too badly." Her voice got softer and there was a rustle of fabric brushing. "Those kids need you. Even if you make mistakes and don't always know what to do, they need you to be here."

There was a long period of silence. Marlene held her breath. Finally, she heard his heavy boots returning.

"So what do we do now?" he asked, sounding calmer.

Marlene let herself relax. _Good boy, Cloud. You're learning._

Tifa sighed. "Well, I really think she needs to stay home tomorrow."

Cloud sounded hesitant. "You think we should tighten the reigns more?"

"You don't think so?" Tifa asked.

"I don't know. You're probably right," Cloud said, backing down.

"Cloud." Tifa's voice was stern. "Stop that. Tell me what you're thinking. I'm not doing this alone, and neither are you."

Cloud's boots started moving again. "Ok, fine. No, I don't think we should keep her home. She's been telling us that she needs normal, right? She's been telling us to stop hovering over her. Maybe…maybe we should listen."

"But she—"

"She's desperate to go to school tomorrow, Teef. That's why she did all this. She wanted to prove to us that she's capable."

"I'm not going to _encourage_ this behavior, Cloud."

"No, it's not like that. She didn't do it to scare us. She was just trying to show that she knew her own limits."

"Which she clearly _doesn't_ ," Tifa pointed out, "since she nearly bled to death."

"Doesn't she? She healed herself, didn't she? If she showed us she could heal a paper cut, do you think that would've proven anything to us?"

Tifa seemed to have run out of arguments. She sat down heavily in a chair. "Maybe you're right," she conceded. "But I'm just scared for her all the time lately. Every day I have to stop myself from calling to make sure she's still ok. I tell myself that she's here with Denzel, or she's somewhere with Lexi, and they wouldn't let anything happen to her."

Marlene felt a pang of guilt. She didn't realize that Tifa still worried so much.

Cloud sat down in another chair. "Ok," he said reasonably. "Worst case scenario. What do you think could realistically happen to her at school?"

"She could faint, or she could get too tired to make it through the day," Tifa said instantly.

"Ok. That's possible. But you know I'll be doing construction at the school for the next few weeks anyway. I'll give her a ride to school and back, and if anything happens during the day, I'll be right there."

"But what about her shakes?"

"I'll keep one in my cooler. I'll give it to her at lunch time."

"But…" Tifa stalled.

"Tifa," Cloud said gently. "She _needs_ normal. Besides, Denzel and Lexi will be with her at school, and unless one of us is going to stay home all the time, she'll just be alone here. If she's there, I'll be nearby. Denzel can come get me if she needs something."

Marlene silently cheered for Cloud.

Finally, Tifa gave in. "Ok, we'll try it. But I want you to check in with her at lunch time and see if she's up to staying for the rest of the day."

"I can do that," Cloud said lightly.

 _Yes!_ _Score for Cloud!_ Marlene pumped her arms in the air silently, resisting the urge to get up and dance around in excitement. Her upper-body-happy-dance was stopped abruptly when she heard Tifa's next words.

"Have you talked to Denzel yet? About the thing with Niko?"

Cloud didn't answer for a moment. Then: "Yes."

"Ok…." Tifa prompted. "What happened?"

He paused again. "We should talk about it later tonight, after closing."

 _No!_ Marlene yelled in her head. Cloud lost all the points he'd just made. She had no intention of staying up until the bar closed, and even if she did, they would probably talk in their bedroom. She had never been able to figure out a way to eavesdrop in there. She could hear through the walls if she stood in the hallway, but she couldn't sneak out there without Cloud hearing her.

"All right," Tifa said. "Can you bring a couple more kegs from the basement and change the taps?"

"Sure," Cloud said.

So that was the end of their conversation. Marlene pushed away the frustration of missing the Denzel talk and focused on the part that made her happy: she was going to school on Monday! She got up from her huddled position by the vent and went about getting her books and papers organized for school. She would, of course, act appropriately surprised when they came up to tell her their decision.

* * *

Monday morning came. The four of them sat around the table finishing breakfast. Apparently Niko had been there, but he'd eaten and left before the rest of the house got up. He'd been like a ghost lately.

Cloud brought his plate into the kitchen and returned with a helmet for Marlene. "Ready to go, Mar? Denz, you sure you don't want a ride? I can come back for you."

"Uh, no thanks. I'll walk," Denzel said.

"Ok," Cloud shrugged. He picked up Marlene's backpack, slid the helmet onto her head, and ignored the exasperated look she was giving him. At least he let her secure the strap herself.

She went out the front door and waited for him to pull Fenrir around to the front. She was big enough now to sit behind him and to hold on to his waist, and if he tried to make her sit in front of him like a 6-year-old, she would have put her foot down. But he didn't. She swung her leg over the seat and pulled herself forward. She hugged herself against his back and absorbed the comfort of his heat through his clothes.

She had always loved riding Fenrir. She loved the way people stopped and stared when Cloud drove by. She loved how safe she felt, knowing that he would never let her get hurt. She loved knowing that she was one of only a few people ever allowed that privilege.

It was even more pronounced when they pulled up to the school. Kids pointed or stopped in groups and broke into frantic chatter. Cloud was either totally oblivious or else pretended to be. Probably the latter. He really hated all the attention.

"Now remember," he said as they walked toward the school, "I'll be out here all day if you need anything. Have Denzel come get me if you need to. Otherwise go to the office and they'll call my cell. And come out at lunch time to get your shake."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Marlene said impatiently. They had reached the side doors of the building and she didn't want him to walk her all the way to her locker.

Cloud looked down at her and just smiled. "Okay then. Have a good day."

Marlene felt warmth down to her toes. "Thanks, Cloud."

* * *

By the end of the first week, Tifa seemed to have relaxed a bit more. Marlene was happy as a clam to be back in school. She hadn't been able to see much of Lexi, but that was about to change. She trotted along happily next to Cloud on Friday morning as he walked to the office with her.

"Hello!" she chirped to the receptionist. "I need a schedule change form."

The receptionist behind the counter peered over her glasses at Marlene. "You'll need a parent or guardian to sign for that."

"That's what he's here for," she said, pointing at Cloud.

The receptionist looked up and flushed red all the way to her fake blonde hair. "Oh," she said, sounding breathless as she slid the form across the counter.

Cloud cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked around the little office while Marlene filled out the form. When she finished, he looked over it and signed at the bottom.

"All set?" he asked as she slid it across the counter to the drooling receptionist.

"Yes!" she said, surprising him with a hug. "Thanks, Cloud!"

He hugged her back, holding on for an extra second. "Don't forget, you'll have to come at the end of the lunch hour to get your shake instead of the beginning."

"I know, I won't forget!" she said cheerfully before dashing off to her locker.

The morning classes seemed to take an eternity that day, but as soon as she made it through her third hour, she dashed off to the ninth grade lockers. It was a bit intimidating to be in that hallway. The ninth graders all seemed so much bigger. She was buffeted around like a pinball, but eventually found her way to Lexi's locker. Lexi was putting away her books and notebooks when Marlene popped up beside her.

"Hey Lexi!" she said.

"Oh, hey," Lexi said. "I'm just on my way to lunch. Don't you have class right now?"

"Not anymore!" Marlene sang. "I got my classes changed so we have the same lunch period! Isn't that great?"

"Oh." Lexi closed her locker and put her hand on it, staring at it before looking over at Marlene. Her smile was gone. "Marlene, look, I'm not sure how to say this, but I don't think we should hang around together anymore."

Marlene took a step back, certain she was joking. "Ok, whatever, Lexi. Come on, let's go!"

Lexi didn't move. Her face turned hard. Her eyes glinted with something that Marlene didn't recognize. "I'm serious, Marlene. It's embarrassing to be hanging around with a sixth grader. It was ok when we didn't have school, but…"

The smile slipped off of Marlene's face. "What are you talking about, Lexi? Aren't we friends?"

Lexi sighed. "Look, I was trying to be nice. Please don't make a scene in the hallway."

Marlene's brow furrowed. She didn't feel like she was making a scene at all. "Ok, but…we can still see each other outside of school, right? I mean, no one at school even has to know…"

Lexi's seemed to brace herself. Her eyes narrowed on Marlene, looking nothing like the girl she had known. "Don't you get it Marlene? I don't _like_ you. I don't _want_ to be your friend. You annoy me. So go scamper off and find someone else to bother."

Marlene's throat tightened. She really thought Lexi liked her. "But…"

"Do I need to make it clearer? I can't stand you. I just felt sorry for you, but I can't even fake it anymore. You're disgusting."

Marlene felt every word like a physical blow. _I won't cry. I won't embarrass myself in the ninth grade hall. I won't!_ But she knew that was a lie. She could feel it coming. She put her head down and pushed her way through the students moving through the hallway like cattle.

"Marlene, wait!" Lexi called.

"No, I get it," Marlene sobbed. "I'll leave you alone."

She thought she heard Lexi call her name again, but she couldn't take anymore. She ducked and weaved against the traffic of ninth graders, squeezing around and between them. For once, she was thankful for her size. She ran desperately toward the east door, ducking under the beams and tarps. Students weren't supposed to use this door, but she had been using it to meet up with Cloud for lunch time.

She burst through the doors, thankful that the construction crew wouldn't be going to lunch for another half hour at least. She saw no one as she sprinted across the road, ducking off onto a side path. She ran as hard and fast as she could, until her side ached and her head pounded. The tears streamed down her face, but she didn't bother wiping them away. There was no one to see her anyway.

Marlene wasn't even halfway home when she stumbled. Her legs just couldn't take it any more. She had gotten stronger, sure, but still much weaker than before the night of the attack. She fell to her knees in the gravel and put her forehead to the ground.

Why did she think anyone would want to be her friend? No one her own age liked her. She was too different, too weird. But why did Lexi pretend? Why did she bother with her if she couldn't stand her? She must have been really pathetic. Maybe she should be grateful that Denzel was ever nice to her. _He_ had friends. People liked him. But Marlene would always be an outcast.

She was starting to get cold. Raindrops were mingling with the tears hitting the ground. She had to move. She wiped off the gravel that had stuck to her head and pulled herself to her feet. The rain came on hard and fast, soaking her to the bone as she pushed forward.

She fell several more times, skinning her knees and elbows, but still, she got up and kept going. The rain plastered her hair to her head and washed the continuous stream of her own rain from her face. She wasn't sure where she was going until she was there. She slowed to a walk as her sneaker touched the rubbery material of the playground.

It was their park. She clutched at the ache in her side and tried to catch her breath between sobs. She limped across the playground, into the tree graveyard. The rain was at least partially blocked by the dead branches here. She looked around for the marker, the pink piece of fabric tied to a branch. When she spotted it, she made her way over, tripping just before she reached it.

She landed on her knee on a sharp rock. She didn't care. Everything inside of her hurt so much more. She crawled on sore knees to the place where she knew it should be. It had grown a little since she last saw it. It stood up proudly among the ruins of its brothers and sisters.

 _'_ _You're the only person I've shown. So now it's our little secret.'_

She fought the urge to stomp the little plant into the ground. It wasn't the tree's fault that she was unlovable.

Marlene buried her head in her arms and cried.


	11. Chapter 11 - Communication

**Chapter 11 - Communication**

Denzel had completely gotten over his distaste at going back to school. In fact, he wished he could go to school every day. It had everything to do with one raven-haired, green-eyed beauty. He hadn't seen her since the memorial ceremony, but he'd thought (and dreamed) about her a lot.

He approached her hesitantly at her locker on Monday morning. He wasn't feeling nearly as brave anymore, and he nearly turned around several times. She was smiling and talking to another girl with the locker next to hers. He could see that one dimple that he loved so much. Her dark hair shimmered and swayed as she moved. Gods, she was pretty.

He finally took those last few steps to her locker. "Hey," he said shyly.

Alicia looked over. The dimple disappeared. "Oh, Denzel. Hi," she said blandly.

"Do you…umm…can I walk you to class?"

"I guess so," she said. Alicia closed her locker and said good bye to her friend, then fell into step with Denzel. She held her books protectively to her chest with both arms and stared straight ahead.

Denzel searched his brain for something to say. "So how was your vacation?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could snatch them back. _It wasn't a vacation, you idiot! It was disaster recovery. Plus, her dad died! Could you possibly say anything dumber?_ "I mean, it wasn't really a vacation," he rushed on. "But you know, time off from school."

Alicia finally turned to look at him. "Why didn't you call, Denzel? I thought we were…" She trailed off and shrugged.

Denzel's heart leapt. "We were! I mean, we are, if you still want to. It's just that I gave Marlene the paper with your phone number so she could tell you when I had to leave town. And then when I got back, I asked for the paper, but she said she lost it." He stopped and took a breath, realizing he was rambling. "But I wanted to. I…I thought about you a lot," he said shyly.

"Really?" She smiled and the dimple reappeared. "I was thinking about you, too," she said softly.

Denzel felt giddy. He knew he was grinning like an idiot as they reached her classroom. "So are we like…" he rubbed the back of his neck timidly, "going out?"

Her pretty green eyes looked up to his. "I don't know. Are you asking?"

He shifted between his feet. "Yeah, I guess."

Her smile widened. "Sure."

Denzel resisted the urge to jump up and down like an idiot. He casted around for something appropriate to say. "Okay then. I'll see you at lunch?"

She nodded and lowered her lashes. "Bye, Denzel." Then she turned and walked into the classroom.

He loved the way his name sounded on her lips. He started walking, paying no attention to where he was going. His heart was racing and he felt like screaming. _I have a girlfriend!_ He grinned to himself. _I have a girlfriend and it's Alicia!_ The conversation played over and over in his head. ' _I was thinking about you, too.'_

Five minutes later, he was pulled out of his daydream by the late bell ringing. He was nowhere near his classroom. The secretary in the office must have thought he was crazy when he asked for a tardy slip with that goofy smile on his face, but he didn't care. _I have a girlfriend and it's Alicia!_

* * *

Denzel's useless left arm hadn't come up during the memorial ceremony, but it was bound to come out eventually. Especially since his new girlfriend wanted to hold his hand.

He carried everything with his right hand, so naturally when Alicia decided to make a bold move, she tried to slide her fingers in his left. He felt it, of course. He wanted to hold hers too, but he couldn't make his fingers move the right way. After holding his limp hand for several seconds, she dropped it, using both arms to hug her books to her chest again. She looked embarrassed and dejected.

"I can't…uh…there's something wrong with that hand." He lifted his arm so she could see the crooked set of his forearm. "But I would…I mean, I want to hold your hand."

She reached out and held his wrist, rotating his arm to see the distorted angles. He didn't want to look at her face. He was afraid of what he would see. Would she be disgusted? What if she didn't think he was strong anymore?

"Does it hurt?" she asked hesitantly.

"No! Not at all. It's healed, just kind of put back together wrong."

He dared a look at her face, but he only saw curiosity. "So…your other hand is ok?"

"Yeah!" he said, a little too enthusiastically. "When I'm not carrying anything, I can..."

She plucked the books from his hand, adding them to the pile in her arms, and then circled to his other side. She linked the fingers of her left hand in his right. "Problem solved," she said cheerfully.

Denzel smiled shyly and squeezed her fingers.

* * *

The week started off great. Marlene was happy to be back in school. Despite Tifa's concerns, never once did she faint or get too tired to finish the school day. Denzel was floating on air. Niko was around, making polite conversation and keeping a wary eye on Denzel. However, it was inevitable that they would eventually meet alone in such close quarters.

It happened during a late night bathroom break on Wednesday night. Denzel had been in bed, but he woke up with a full bladder a few hours after falling into a blissful slumber. The bar was open, so Cloud and Tifa were downstairs working. Niko sometimes helped out, but weeknights were relatively slow, so that night he was hanging out in Cloud's office.

Denzel didn't even see it coming. He flipped off the light as he left the bathroom, still half asleep. As he slogged into the hallway, he suddenly found the floor rushing at his face. His good arm was twisted behind his back, and his bad arm was too uncoordinated to break his fall. He let out a quiet grunt when his head banged the floor, but then a hand snaked over his mouth and a knee pressed in the center of his back, just below his wrenched arm. He whimpered, confused and disoriented. Hot breath warmed his ear.

"What's the matter, hotshot? You aren't trained in hand-to-hand?"

Denzel shook his head. It was the only thing he could do. Even if his left arm wasn't completely useless, he couldn't reach Niko back there. He couldn't even say anything with the hand still covering his mouth.

"How do you like it? How does it feel when someone else has your life in their hands? Do you feel powerful? Brave? Strong? _Safe_?"

Denzel felt like he was hyperventilating. He was breathing hard through his nose, trying to find an opening, but he really didn't know anything about hand-to-hand, and Niko was bigger and stronger.

"Do you know how hard it is to sleep next door to someone who tried to kill you? Even after that, even though Cloud _saw_ what you did, they think you're harmless. You get a pass because, what, because you're younger? You're sure got them fooled, kid." The anger in Niko's voice was growing. "I oughta just take care of you for them. Do them a favor, because clearly they can't see that they've got a psychopath under their roof."

Denzel swallowed hard and whimpered again.

Niko leaned closer, putting his lips right up to Denzel's ear. His weight pressed harder against Denzel's back. "Lucky for you, I'm not crazy. I just wanted you to know how this feels."

The pressure against Denzel's arm was released. The weight lifted from his back. Denzel crawled away as fast as he could, putting distance between them, his heart hammering and his breathing harsh. He glanced over his shoulder as soon as he dared, but Niko just sat there, leaning against the wall next to the office door. Once he was out of his reach, Denzel sat up against the opposite wall. He stared at Niko, even more confused.

Niko slouched down further, and Denzel was suddenly struck by how young he looked. How vulnerable. He was really only a few years older than Denzel.

"Man, you don't have a clue how lucky you are," Niko said dryly. "Most of us orphans didn't get plucked off the street by a living legend. We didn't get a warm bed or a Tifa to cook for us every day. Do you even appreciate it, or do you think the universe just owes that to you?"

Denzel's heart was still pounding. He couldn't seem to comprehend the switch in Niko's attitude.

"You know," Niko said contemplatively, "it didn't feel as good as I thought it would. Ruining my career."

Denzel blinked and finally found his voice. "What?"

Niko finally looked over at Denzel. "Well, as soon as you tell Cloud and Tifa what I did, I'm done for. I mean, I'd dreamed about doing that, but I never actually _planned_ to. It was really a spur-of-the-moment thing. And it doesn't feel that good." Niko laughed humorlessly. "Guess I'll pack my stuff now. I'm not sure if I'll get a chance later." He pushed himself to his feet.

"Wait," Denzel said. "I won't tell them."

Niko stopped. "You're joking, right?"

Denzel shook his head slowly. "I won't. Because…I deserved that. I was out of control that day. It wasn't ok."

Niko slid back down to the ground, looking stunned.

"And I _do_ know how lucky I am, Niko. I didn't deserve to be rescued by Cloud any more than any other orphan in Midgar." Denzel traced his fingers against the rough wooden floor. "I wish I hadn't been," he said morosely.

"What? Why would you say that?" Niko asked incredulously.

"It's my fault that things in Edge are like this," Denzel blurted. "It's my fault Cloud was out of town that day, and it's my fault that we didn't come back sooner, and it's even my fault that we crashed Fenrir because of the chip in the materia slot and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, kid. Slow down a second. I'm pretty sure you didn't bring those monsters into town on a leash. I don't know about the rest of it, but that sounds like a pretty heavy load for a kid to carry." Niko crossed his arms and contemplated him. "Have you talked to Cloud about all this?"

Denzel sighed and shook his head. "No. I can't stand to disappoint him any more than I already do."

Niko laughed out loud. "Are you serious? Man, you should hear the way he talks about you. Like you're some kind of prodigy. Like…like you're his own flesh and blood and he's just so damn proud." Niko shook his head and looked down. "I guess I was jealous, you know? That's why we came here that day. I wanted that. I asked him to teach me how to use a sword, because I wanted to see his eyes light up like that when he talked about me."

Denzel looked up. "He…he talks about me?"

Niko snorted. "Gods, all the _time_. You know that day in the kitchen, when you came at me with a knife? At first I didn't know it was you, but after Tifa busted in and broke it up, all I could think was, 'he's just a kid. He just looks like a regular kid.' I guess I had this image in my head of some glowing golden boy."

Denzel scratched his head. "I didn't realize Cloud was so disconnected from reality."

Niko laughed, then stood and held his hand out to Denzel. "Truce?"

Denzel stared up at him in amazement. "You're just…over it? You're not mad or scared or anything?"

Niko gave a lopsided smile. "Nah. I can see you're just a scared kid, in over your head. I had moments like that as a soldier. When you're stressed like that, sometimes your body doesn't consult your brain."

Denzel nodded emphatically. "Yeah! I just felt so out of control. I'm really not like that, I swear."

"So are you gonna accept my truce or make me stand her like an idiot with my hand out all night?"

Denzel seemed to notice his hand for the first time. A grin broke across his face as he accepted the gesture. "Truce."

* * *

"Denzel! What happened to your head?" Tifa fussed the next morning over breakfast.

He chewed his sausage thoughtfully before answering. "I woke up last night to go to the bathroom and…I hit my head."

Tifa reached over and pushed his bangs to the side to get a better look. "That looks pretty sore. I can cure it for you after breakfast."

Denzel shook his head, letting his hair slide back over the goose egg on his forehead. "That's ok, Tifa. It doesn't even hurt."

She frowned and went back to her eggs. "I keep telling you to turn on the lights when you get up at night. You never know what you might stumble over in the dark."

Denzel shoved more sausage in his mouth to cover the laugh that wanted to come out. "You're right, Tifa. I'll try to remember," he mumbled around the sausage.

She made a face. "Try to remember not to talk with your mouth full too, would ya?

* * *

By Friday, Denzel realized that for the first time, he wasn't looking forward to the weekend. He leaned against the locker next to Alicia's after third period. She was complaining about Mr. Johnson and how hard it was to stay awake for his History lectures.

Over her shoulder, he saw the familiar bob of Marlene's hair in the ninth grade hallway. She stood out like a sore thumb in that hall, nearly a head shorter than everyone else. Something about her posture seemed off, though. Acting on instinct, Denzel started toward her.

"Denzel?" Alicia questioned as he passed her.

He didn't stop to respond. He walked fast, reaching the hallway just in time to hear Lexi.

"Do I need to make it clearer? I can't stand you. I just felt sorry for you, but I can't even fake it anymore. You're disgusting."

Denzel couldn't believe it. He had never heard Lexi speak to Marlene that way. He pushed his way through the swarm of ninth graders. Marlene ducked her head and slipped away between them. He made a beeline for Lexi and grabbed her arm.

Lexi looked over, startled. For just a second, her eyes looked different. He couldn't pinpoint exactly why or what was different, but in the next second the illusion was gone, and she was the same old Lexi. She blinked and looked back in the direction Marlene had escaped.

"Marlene, wait!" she called.

She tried to follow, but Denzel yanked her back. "Leave her alone, Lexi!" He couldn't believe he had been so wrong about her. "I thought you were her friend! How could you say those things to her?" he said angrily.

Lexi looked distraught. "You don't understand. I need to find her! I have to fix her!"

"I think you've said enough," Denzel growled, his grip unrelenting.

"Denzel? What's going on?" Alicia appeared at his shoulder, distracting him just enough for Lexi to slip away.

He watched her fighting against the traffic of ninth graders, but let her go. He looked back to Alicia.

"I have to find Marlene," he said. "I'm sorry, I'll explain later."

He walked away quickly, but she caught up.

"I'll help you," Alicia said stoutly.

Denzel felt a wash of affection as he watched her hurrying to keep up. "It's not your problem, Alicia. You'll be late for class."

"I don't care," she said. "Is something going on with your sister?"

"Yeah," he said grimly. "I think she just got her feelings hurt, but I still kinda worry about her. She's still pretty fragile and she can be really impulsive sometimes." Denzel sighed and stopped walking. The hallways had almost cleared by then. He scanned in every direction, but her familiar shape was nowhere to be seen. "Where would she have gone?"

"If it were me, I'd probably hide out in the girls' bathroom," Alicia said matter-of-factly. Denzel stared at her. "That's why you need my help."

A small smile broke through his worried expression. "Ok, can you check them? I'm going to look in some other places."

Alicia gave one quick nod and headed off to the nearest bathroom. Denzel checked every janitor's closet, every empty classroom, even the office. He felt like he'd checked every nook and cranny where she could possibly hide out. No Marlene. He sprinted back to the hallway where he'd separated from Alicia, ignoring the teacher in the hallway who called "No running!" as he dashed by.

Alicia was back already, looking worried. "You didn't find her?"

Denzel shook his head. "No, and I don't know where else to look. Maybe she—" Just then, he noticed a thick plastic sheet down the hall. "The construction area!"

Alicia followed his line of sight. "Students aren't supposed to go back there."

"I know," he said, "but Marlene might have."

She bit her lip and nodded. "Then let's go look." She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the restricted area.

But Denzel resisted. "No. Not you." She looked back, hurt written all over her face. He gestured to her open-toed platform sandals and the bare legs below her knee-length skirt. "It will be messy and dangerous. You can't go back there like that."

"I'll be fine," she said irritably.

"Please, Alicia. I'll move faster if I don't have to worry about you. Just…go to class. I'll call you later, ok?"

Alicia pouted, but only for a second. "Promise?"

"I promise," he said, giving her hand one last squeeze. He watched her walking toward the office before taking off at a trot and ducking underneath the plastic.

It was like a different world on the other side of that sheet. The side of the building had been completely torn apart, making one giant room. Beams and supports were in place, but a few more steps in, a tarp became the temporary ceiling. Tools were strewn everywhere. Piles of planks dotted the ground below scaffoldings and on top of sawhorses. Denzel ducked and weaved around the various debris, wondering where all the workers could be.

"Marlene?" he called softly. His voice echoed eerily. The patter of rain on the tarp started, softly at first, but quickly turning into a downpour. "Marlene!" he said louder. He made his way across the room, thankful for the wide open space that left little room for hiding. The rain was getting loud, making it hard to hear his own voice.

Denzel made it to the far side of the construction area and ducked through an opening in the tarp. He was instantly drenched, but he didn't care. About 50 feet from the entrance was a large tent shelter. He could see shadows moving within it, so he sprinted across the small area and ducked inside.

A dozen men and women in working clothes were sitting around tables, laughing and eating lunch. They all looked up at the teenage boy who had just stormed in looking like a drowned rat.

Denzel quickly scanned the faces. "Cloud? Where's Cloud?" he asked frantically.

The workers looked stunned, but a middle aged woman in the corner finally responded. "He went to meet his little girl."

She must mean Marlene. Did that mean she had called him? "Where?" he asked.

"I think they meet over by the east door," another worker drawled.

Denzel nodded his thanks and took off, sprinting through the downpour toward the east door. He slammed open the heavy metal door and came face to face with a startled-looking Cloud, who was leaning calmly against the wall in the entryway.

"Cloud!" Denzel blurted. "Have you seen Marlene?"

Cloud stared at him blankly. "No, not yet. She hasn't shown up yet."

"We have to find her!" Denzel said frantically. "I think she left the school. Lexi said something mean and she took off."

"Lexi?" Cloud looked confused. "Are you sure?" He picked up a thermos and slid it back into the cooler by his side, but he was moving far too slowly for Denzel.

"Yes! Cloud, come _on_!"

"Denzel, are you sure she's not here? Maybe we should check—"

"Cloud, I looked _everywhere_! She's not here!"

Finally, Cloud nodded. "Let's go."

They ran across the parking lot in the downpour, their footsteps splashing in the water. Cloud popped open one of the compartments to grab the helmet and handed it to Denzel. They both jumped on, and Fenrir kicked up mud as they sped out of the lot.

Denzel was feeling pretty useless, trying to look for Marlene in the downpour. At least Cloud had his goggles and his super laser eyes, so he should be able to spot her if she was out there. But by the time they pulled up to Seventh Heaven, they hadn't seen a trace. Cloud stopped in the parking lot and they both raced inside.

"Marlene!" Cloud yelled. "Are you in here?"

"Marlene!" Denzel echoed, tracking mud through the bar and up the stairs. He opened every door and poked his head in, calling her name over and over. She wasn't upstairs. He clomped back down the stairs. Cloud was just returning from checking the kitchen and training room and garage, also empty-handed.

"Are you sure that's the route she usually walks to school?" Cloud asked.

"I—I think so. I don't know! I know she does sometimes."

"Where else would she go?" Cloud prodded.

"I have no idea, Cloud!"

Cloud sighed and pushed his sodden hair out of his eyes. For once, Denzel appreciated the helmet he made them wear. "Alright, I'm gonna drive around and look for her. You stay here and call me if she shows up." He eyed the path of muddy destruction from Denzel's trail. "And maybe clean up while you wait." Without waiting for a response, he headed back out in the rain.

* * *

Marlene couldn't remember the last time she'd cried so long and hard. She had been hurt and embarrassed when the three girls had tricked her in the Wasteland. She had been in pain when she had a knife stabbed into her thigh. But this? This was a whole new level of hurt. She had completely opened herself up to Lexi, making it all the more painful when she stabbed her in the back.

She had her arms wrapped around her knees and her face buried in her arms, as if she could ward off the hurt if she made herself as small as possible. It wasn't working, but it probably kept her from freezing in the chill rain.

"I thought I might find you here."

Marlene lifted her head at the soft voice that she barely heard over the driving rain. Her face crumbled all over again. "Go away, Lexi. I got your point, ok? I understand."

"No, Marlene, you don't," Lexi said, making her way across the rocky ground. She wrapped her arms around the younger girl and started to sing.

"What? What are you doing? Don't touch me!" Marlene thrashed and struggled, but she was weakened in so many ways and couldn't escape Lexi's grip. "Lexi stop! Leave me alone!"

Lexi ignored her and continued singing, and as hard as she tried to hang on to it, the anger slid between Marlene's fingers. The pain faded away. The tears stopped. Soon she stopped struggling and just let Lexi hold her.

When Lexi finished her song, Marlene sat up. "I—I'm so confused." Looking at Lexi properly, soaked to the skin just like her, she could tell now that she had been crying as well.

Lexi took both of her hands. "I'm so sorry, Mars. I had to hurt you and I had to make it real."

Marlene shook her head. "What are you talking about? Why would you ever _have_ to hurt someone?" But she still didn't feel the anger. There was only curiosity behind her words.

"Remember that day when we talked about experimenting with my ability? I was starting to see a pattern. The people I helped the most where the ones that were the most vulnerable. It's almost like the soul is raw and exposed when someone is really hurt or upset, and that's when I feel the strongest urge to fix someone. That's also when I saw the biggest improvement."

Marlene nodded slowly. "And I said I would let you experiment on me."

"Yes," Lexi said, squeezing her hands. "I didn't want it to be you, though! You've been hurt so much already. I fought it for so long, Mars! I tried it with strangers, or people I didn't know well, but I never seemed to hurt them that much. And I realized…the people you hurt the most are the ones who love you the most." She looked down at the muddy ground. "I knew I could cut you deep, but I could never bring myself to do it…until today."

She released Marlene's hands and sat back, looking ashamed. "Once I started, the anger just flowed like a current. I told myself I would catch you right away, it would only hurt for a minute, and then I could make you better. But…you got away from me. Denzel stopped me and then I got caught up in the traffic in the hallway."

"Denzel?" Marlene asked.

"Yes," Lexi said solemnly. "He was really angry at me." She seemed incredibly troubled by that fact. Marlene didn't think they even knew each other outside of the times they'd interacted when she was visiting her at Seventh Heaven.

Lexi tried to brush the mud from her knees before she stood, but only succeeded in spreading it further. She wiped a hand on her shirt and held it out to Marlene, looking unsure of herself for the first time since Marlene had met her. "The school day is pretty much over, so we should probably take you home."

Marlene wasn't unsure. She wasn't even upset. She grabbed Lexi's hand and let her pull her to her feet. As they emerged from the tree graveyard, the rain slowed and then stopped. A faint rainbow stretched across the sky, leading them home.

"Lex?"

"Yeah?"

"Did it work?"

Lexi was still crying a bit, but she looked over at Marlene with a wobbly smile. "You'll have to wait and see for yourself."

* * *

Denzel did clean up his mess. It was only partially for Tifa's sake, though. He was going to go crazy if he didn't have something to keep him busy. He considered cleaning and polishing Skoll, but all weapons were still under lock and key.

He paced up and down the floor of the bar, imagining all the horrible things that could have happened to Marlene. He saw her getting hit by a car. He saw her trip and fall in a well. He saw her getting attacked by wild animals in a ditch. He saw her getting kidnapped my masked hoodlums in a windowless van. His mental images were getting more ridiculous and graphic with every passing minute.

At the first click of the door, Denzel was there, pulling it open from the inside. Before she could even register him, Marlene was pulled into a tight hug. After all of those violent images, he almost wasn't expecting to see her alive.

He didn't immediately release her. She felt different. Sturdier. Slowly, he stepped back, keeping his hands on her arms. His mouth went dry as he looked her over. "Mar? What…what happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently. Every trace of sadness and hurt was gone from her voice.

That was when Denzel noticed Lexi standing behind her in the doorway, looking abashed. His hands tightened on Marlene's shoulders. "What is _she_ doing here?"

Marlene pulled herself from his grasp and grabbed one of Lexi's hands, pulling her inside the bar. "It was just a misunderstanding, Denzel."

Denzel scowled. "I heard what she said, Mar. Trust me, you didn't misunderstand her."

"Heel, guard doggie," Marlene said playfully, turning back to him. "I'll explain it all, just as soon as I see what you're freaking about. Sit down," she ordered, pointing at one of the tables. Then she took off at a run and pounded up the stairs.

Denzel was still staring at Lexi distrustfully. "I never knew you could be so mean, Lexi." He leaned closer and lowered his voice so Marlene wouldn't overhear. "Do you know how hard it is for her to make friends? You were her _best_ friend. If you didn't want to hang out with her, you didn't have to say it like that."

Lexi looked like she was holding back tears. "I—I know, Denzel. I didn't want to hurt her." She looked down and shuffled her feet.

He might have torn into her further if Marlene hadn't come gliding back into the bar at that moment. She had pushed her wet hair back with the headband that she hadn't needed to wear for months. She was practically glowing.

"It worked, Lexi!" she sang. "I can't believe it! You fixed me!"

A scowl settled over Denzel's face. "What do you mean, _she_ fixed you? What did she do?"

Marlene pulled Lexi over to the table and coaxed her into sitting next to Denzel. Then she parked in a third chair. "She had to break me to fix me. It's amazing, Denz. I don't know how it happened, but Lexi has some kind of power to…well, to soothe the soul. Or maybe a special part of my brain. I don't know, but whatever was broken in me, that's what she can fix! But she needed to hurt me to get me to open up. That's why she was so mean. So, see? It was all just to help me!"

Denzel stared at her in silence. That whole rambling explanation took some time to absorb. Finally, he shifted his view to Lexi. "Do you have a moogle doll?"

* * *

Marlene silently flipped through the sketchpad. Denzel had retrieved it from upstairs before remembering that he hadn't told Cloud that she was home yet. So while Denzel made his phone call, Lexi and Marlene admired his artwork.

It seemed to be a hodgepodge of random things and people. There were pictures of Cloud fighting, which were really cool. There were also a couple of him holding fire in his hands, which was just silly. There was a drawing of an angry Jameson which was startlingly accurate. She paused when she came across the picture with the three girls she had once seen him sketching. It was Heather, Juliette, and Annile. They were whispering and pointing at her. Did that mean that Denzel had figured out who her bullies had been? They hadn't really bothered her since school started back up this week. She wondered if Denzel had said something to them. He hoped he didn't do something stupid, like threaten a bunch of younger girls.

Denzel finished on the phone and came to sit back down with them. "Cloud and Tifa are both coming home. They're gonna want an explanation about what happened to you, Marlene."

"Ok," she said. "Denzel, you didn't say anything to these girls, did you?" she asked, showing him the picture.

"Say anything?" Denzel looked puzzled. "What would I say to them? I don't even know them."

Marlene looked back down at the drawing. "Why did you draw this?"

"I don't really know," Denzel said with a sigh. "I didn't know why I drew this one, either," he said, flipping to the picture of Marlene with the moogle doll. "But you looked so much better that I knew the moogle must have something to do with it."

"What?" Marlene shook her head. "Denzel, you're not making any sense."

"I know. It doesn't make sense," he said with a frown. "But I've been getting these pictures in my head and I have to draw them. And then sometimes, they come true."

Marlene was starting to get excited. "You have a special power just like Lexi!" Then she sobered. "How come I didn't get one?"

Just then, Cloud and Tifa rushed in through the front door of the bar. The three kids looked up calmly, wondering what the adults were so worked up over. They both froze in their tracks and stared at Marlene. Tifa walked slowly forward like she was afraid to spook the little girl. She ran a thumb gently over one full cheek and gingerly picked up one no-longer-bony wrist.

Then they had to start all over. Marlene was delighted to explain how Lexi had broken and fixed her again. She was back to her previous animated self. She hadn't even realized that she'd lacked the energy to do it for so long. When she was finished, Tifa's eyes caught on Denzel's open sketchpad. She reached over and pulled it across the table. "Denzel, did you know Lexi could do this?" she asked.

Marlene studied Tifa's expression. She seemed to already know about Denzel's drawings. It seemed Cloud did, too, as neither of them looked surprised that he had drawn it. She couldn't help feeling a little put out that she hadn't been privy to every secret in this house.

Denzel shook his head. "Not before today. I didn't know it was Lexi's doll."

Tifa looked back at the drawing and traced her finger over the dark smudges all over the doll. "What does it have all over it?" she asked.

"Oh," Lexi said, her face dropping, "that was from Geostigma."

Cloud's eyes snapped to her. "You had the Stigma?"

Lexi nodded. "My brother and me both had it."

Cloud's eyes drifted somewhere far away. He was putting something together in his head, but in typical Cloud fashion, he wasn't going to tell them anything.

Marlene would have pestered him for information, which likely would have been fruitless anyway, but the door opened just then and Niko entered. She hadn't seen him for days, but he looked much more relaxed than he had been the last few times he'd been there.

"Hey Niko," Denzel said casually.

"Hey Denzel," Niko said with a grin.

Marlene scowled. It seemed that she was losing her touch. There were multiple things going on here that she didn't know about.

* * *

A soft tapping on Denzel's door pulled him from the light sleep he had just slipped into. "Come in," he said groggily.

Marlene poked her head into the dark room. "Denzel, are you awake?"

"No," he muttered without opening his eyes.

"I need to talk to you!" she whispered loudly.

"And I need to sleep. Talk to me in the morning," he grumbled.

Marlene flipped on the light.

"Argh!" Denzel threw his arm over his eyes to hide from the glaring brightness.

Marlene plopped down on the end of his bed. It seemed that she was going to enjoy the return of her vitality to the fullest.

He could see that she wasn't going to give up, so he grudgingly sat up in bed. "Is this really something that can't wait until tomorrow?"

"I can't sleep because I'm thinking about it, and I can't stop thinking about it until I talk about it. So no, it can't."

Denzel let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Fine. Talk."

"Ok," Marlene said, sitting up on her knees and gearing herself up for lecture mode. "You said something earlier tonight about Lexi's eyes."

"Yeah," he said, rubbing at his own eyes.

"What was weird about them? What looked different?"

Denzel groaned. "I don't know, Mar, they just looked funny."

"Like what?" Marlene pressed. "Was the color different?"

"No."

"Were her pupils different?"

"N—wait," he said, sitting up. "Yeah, that was it," he said, getting excited. "They were longer or something. And skinnier! Yeah! They looked like a cat's eyes."

Marlene sat back on her heels, looking satisfied. "I saw a whole group of kids with cat's eyes once," she said solemnly.

Denzel scratched his head. "Really? I don't remember that. Where was I?"

"Right in the middle of the group," she said. "In the lake in the Forgotten City. You were listening to some girly-looking dude in skin tight leather instead of the great and wise Marlene, who was telling you not to drink the freaking water!"

"Oh. Oh! All our eyes looked like that?"

"Yeah. It was creepy." Marlene shuddered. "You're probably lucky you don't remember everything that happened after that. I mean, how did you not notice something was _off_ about those three?"

Denzel shrugged. "They were a little weird, but I was desperate. Everyone said there was no cure, but then that girl with the moogle doll…" he trailed off. _The girl with the moogle doll…_ Realizations were hitting him hard and fast. "Marlene! That girl was Lexi! I can't believe I didn't recognize her before! Remember? She was there at the church with us, too. I think she even held your hand on the way."

Marlene's eyes lit up. "That's right! It _was_ Lexi! How could we forget that?"

"She looked different back then." He paused, trying to remember some of the other faces from the back of that truck, but he couldn't picture anyone. He could only pull up flickers of stocking caps and sneakers and legions of black-stained bandages. "I wonder if we know any of those other kids now."

Marlene shrugged. "I wasn't really looking at them."

"Me neither."

Denzel chewed his lip. "So how is that related?"

Marlene slouched. "I don't know. That's why I need to talk through it with you so I can figure it out! Lexi said once that she felt something weird on her neck and arm when she used her ability, right where her Geostigma used to be. Do you have anything like that?"

Denzel touched his forehead. "Yeah. Yes! That's right where it gets all itchy inside!"

"So that has to be it!" she said. "Your powers came from your Geostigma!"

Denzel was impressed. "Nice detective work, Mar. So do you have any idea why Cloud took away my sword and materia?"

Marlene frowned. "No. Probably because you looked like you were gonna kill a guy."

"Cloud told you about that?!" He couldn't believe he would talk to Marlene about something like that.

"Not…exactly." Marlene said. "He told Tifa and I just overheard."

"Overheard," Denzel snorted. "Right."

Marlene fidgeted with her hands. "Denzel?" she asked softly. "Were you really gonna do it?"

Denzel didn't answer for a long time. He remembered the way he felt, that burning current of anger flowing through him. He remembered the way he had eyed Niko's neck, watching his pulse throbbing against his glistening skin, thinking how easy it would be. He remembered his muscles tensing, getting ready to move. He closed his eyes and sighed. "If Cloud wasn't there…I might have."

" _Why_ , Denzel?! Why would you even think of something like that?"

"I don't know," Denzel said, pounding the bed with his fist in frustration. "I've never felt like that before."

"Why are you so angry and mean and quick tempered lately?" she pressed. "Why are you acting like someone else? I don't like this version of you!"

"Shut up, Marlene," he growled in warning.

"No! I don't even think I _should_ fix your arm," she said stubbornly, her eyes narrowing. "You deserve to have it messed up for the rest of your life. I don't know why that girl likes you, but once I tell her—"

"SHUT UP!" he roared, jumping up from the bed.

Marlene backed up fast, her eyes wide. Denzel took a step toward her and then the door slammed open on its hinges, punching a hole in the drywall. Tifa pulled Marlene behind her and Cloud grabbed Denzel's shoulders before he could get any closer.

No one said anything for a long time. They all stared at each other, wondering who was going to make the next move.

It was Denzel. He sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

"Go to your room, Marlene," Tifa finally said.

"No," Marlene said stubbornly. "I wanted to see if his eyes would change if I made him mad and they did! He got really mad and he got those cat eyes!"

"We know," Cloud said quietly. "Go to your room."

"No!" Marlene stomped her foot. "If you _know_ , why don't you tell us anything? If you would tell us what's going on, I wouldn't have to try to figure it all out on my own! If you would have just told Denzel why you were taking him on that camping trip in the first place, he wouldn't have been such a jerk to Cloud and almost gotten killed! If you would have let me try healing once I was recovered, I wouldn't have had to try cutting myself up! If you think Denzel's too dangerous to have his sword, maybe you should tell him why! And maybe you should tell me not to provoke him if you _know_ that he might go psycho on me!"

She ended her rant, red faced and breathing heavily. The other three stared in shock. Denzel was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. "Wow, Mar. Maybe you shouldn't hold everything in like that."

Cloud and Tifa looked at each other for several minutes, passing those silent messages. Denzel watched their faces closely. He could actually see when they came to some kind of agreement. It was kind of fascinating when he wasn't all irritated about it.

"Ok," Cloud finally said. "Let's go talk."

They all herded down the stairs and into the little living area off the kitchen. Marlene sat down at one end of the big red leather couch, and Tifa sat down next to her, putting a protective arm around her shoulder. Cloud sat on the stained brown loveseat. Denzel sat in the lone armchair.

Cloud leaned back and tapped his fingers on his legs. "I'm not sure where to start," he confessed.

"How about explaining why Denzel's eyes change like that when he gets mad." She crossed her arms and a scowl locked on her face. She still seemed pretty irritated about the secrets.

"Well…I have a theory," Cloud said slowly. "But I'm not sure if it's right, because we should have heard something about it by now."

He trailed off and Marlene got impatient again. "Just tell us the theory, Cloud!"

Cloud began to crack his knuckles – a nervous habit that she hadn't seen in quite some time. "I think that…when he gets angry, Jenova has some kind of influence over him. It somehow gives her an opening."

"But…but…the Stigma is gone. I thought the flower girl fixed it." Marlene cast a nervous glance at Tifa at the mention of the other woman, but she didn't seem to react.

"Yeah." His eyes flickered around thoughtfully. "But what exactly did she do? Did it wash the cells right out of our bodies?"

The kids looked lost, so he continued.

"According to Vincent, the symptoms of Geostigma were caused by the body overcompensating for alien matter in the bloodstream. With Aerith's healing rain, the symptoms went away, right? But what if it only stopped the body's immune response? What if the cells are still in there, in our bodies, causing slow mutations?"

"But what about you, Cloud?" Marlene questioned. "Is it affecting you, too?"

Cloud frowned. "I don't think so. But I don't expect that I would react like most people."

"Oh." The wheels were turning in her head. "Do you think there are others that are getting weird abilities too? We already figured out that the abilities are related to the stigma."

The adults looked surprised. "Yes, we think so," Tifa answered. "There's been a lot of strange stuff in the news in Edge."

"But nowhere else," Cloud added.

"Wasn't the stigma everywhere?" Denzel asked. "I thought it was just worst around the Midgar area, but that it was everywhere."

"Yeah," Cloud acknowledged. "There were reactors all over the planet. That's why I'm not so sure about that theory. It should be happening everywhere, not just here."

Marlene's face was scrunched up, a sign that there were lightbulbs going off in her head. "Why were the three gray guys here?" she wondered. "Why not somewhere else?"

Cloud smothered a grin at 'the three gray guys.' "I think probably because I'm here and Shinra's here. They were looking for both of us."

"Hm," Marlene said. "Well that's something that makes Midgar different than all the other places."

"Cloud and Shinra being here? How does that make a difference?" Tifa asked.

"No, the three gray guys being here. They took Denzel and those other kids out to the Forbidden Forest and got them to drink that water."

Cloud looked alarmed. He sat forward in his seat. "What water? What are you talking about?"

"There was some kind of pond out there and Kadaj did something to make it all black and then got the kids to drink it."

Cloud's eyes narrowed as he looked back to Denzel. "Did you drink it?"

"Um…yeah," Denzel said, looking properly embarrassed this time.

Cloud fell back against the loveseat. "What happened when they drank it?" he asked, directing the question back to Marlene.

"Their eyes all turned into those cat eyes and then they decided it would be fun to be Kadaj's human shield," Marlene said, displaying the flair for drama that had been missing of late.

"You didn't drink any, did you, sweetie?" Tifa asked Marlene.

Marlene snorted. "Of course not!"

"Lexi did it, too," Denzel said defensively.

Cloud was staring off into space again, working through something in his mind. "You gonna tells us what you're figuring out, Cloud?" Marlene sassed, crossing her arms.

He looked a little embarrassed, so he probably hadn't been about to tell them. "Oh. I was just thinking," he said. "Did they _try_ to get you to drink it, Mar?"

Marlene shook her head. "Nope. I think I was just bait for you."

Cloud nodded. "It sounds like maybe the water activated the cells somehow. Maybe the reunion instinct, if they were trying to find Jenova."

Denzel had been mostly a silent observer to this whole discussion. Something else was weighing on his mind. After Marlene had announced that she was going back to bed and Tifa left for a bathroom break, the two guys were left sitting there alone.

"You should get to bed, too, Denzel. It's late," Cloud said.

Denzel nodded, but didn't move. He wanted to ask, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Something else bothering you?" Cloud asked gently.

Denzel finally looked up. "Do you think Aerith is going to do something to fix it again?"

Cloud shook his head slowly. "I don't think we should count on it."

Denzel squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't like this feeling," he admitted quietly. "I don't like being controlled by someone else."

That seemed to hit Cloud hard. His fingers flexed on his thighs. "I—I know," he said finally.

"Can you fix it?" His voice pleaded, taking on the tone of the helpless little boy he used to be. Back then, he had thought Cloud could make anything better. Cloud was invincible. He was going to find the cure for Geostigma any day. And when he disappeared from their lives, he never stopped believing that Cloud would come back.

But now, Cloud just looked crushed. He didn't look invincible at all. "No, buddy. I don't think I can."

* * *

Denzel was starting to get nervous. Was it really necessary for _everyone_ to be there for this? Cloud insisted that it was.

Marlene sat in front of him, gently palpating his forearm. She had her eyes closed and a look of intense focus on her face. Cloud sat to Denzel's left, next to the damaged arm. He seemed to think that Denzel would need to be held down. Lexi sat at the other side side, whether for him or Marlene he didn't know, but apparently her skills were going to make this process easier. Tifa stood behind Denzel with her hands on his shoulders, ready to provide comfort or strength as needed.

Marlene pulled in a deep breath through her nose and let it out through her mouth. "Ok, guys. I'm ready."

Cloud wrapped one hand around Denzel's wrist and grabbed his upper arm with the other. It felt like a steel vice.

"Is this really necessary, guys?" Denzel complained. "I'm not going to—AGH!" _Holy mother of GAIA, that hurt!_ "Jeez Marlene, what are you—GAAAAAAH!" he screamed again.

Each moment of intense agony was followed by a soothing coolness that dulled the pain from unbearable to just severe. Denzel wasn't sure if that made it better or worse, because there was always the unbearable pain to look forward to in the next moment. He knew it was coming after each reprieve. At first, he really did try to hold still, but after the third stab of pain, he was trying desperately to pull his arm out of Cloud's iron grip. When that proved fruitless, he tried to move the rest of his body, to use his body weight to pull himself away from the part of him that was screaming for every ounce of his attention.

Tifa wrapped her arms around his upper body, immobilizing that half of him to the chair. Cloud used his legs to trap Denzel's legs between then, his last ditch effort at pushing away Marlene's chair to stop her. "Please stop! Marlene! I need a break! STOP!"

Marlene released her focus just long enough to say. "Can't right now." Then she went back into it while Denzel's every muscle strained against Cloud and Tifa.

He felt a cool hand at the back of his neck. He was confused at the disembodied touch at first, but then a low croon slipped through his consciousness. Lexi's voice slithered through him like a silken sheath, releasing the tension in his muscles. It was a strange sensation. He could still feel the pain radiating from his arm, but it was like he was disconnected from it. He felt it, but didn't really seem bothered by it.

The pain broke through that curious barrier only once, when Marlene started working on his nerves, but Lexi doubled down, putting her arms all the way around him and singing louder to be heard over his uncontrollable yelling.

After what felt like an eternity, the pain dulled and then began to fade, replaced by that cool, soothing sensation. He let out a sigh of relief as Marlene released his hand. Lexi let him go and stepped back, looking shy. Cloud and Tifa held on for a minute longer, until they were sure he wasn't going to lash out at Marlene.

Denzel held up his arm, examining it in awe. He wiggled his fingers and then curled them into a fist. He let out a laugh of pure exhiliaration, moving his arm around and bending every joint in every way possible. He lunged at Marlene. She cringed as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a loud, sloppy kiss on the cheek. Cloud laughed out loud and Tifa smothered a giggle.

"Ugh! Denzel! Gross!" Marlene shrieked.

Denzel released her, leaving wet marks everywhere he had touched her. He looked down at himself, suddenly realizing that he was soaked with sweat. That just made it so much funnier. He grinned like a madman. "You're the best, Marlene. I take back every mean thing I ever said about you in my whole life."

Marlene looked embarrassed and tried to act like she was still upset about his sweaty hug, but he could see she was pleased by his gushing. He laughed in amazement once more and then ran up the stairs, wondering how he was ever going to repay her.

He was thoroughly enjoying showering with two hands when he remembered that he probably should have thanked Lexi, too. He was fairly certain that he would have lost his sanity halfway through that without her.

Once he finished his shower, Denzel got out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He felt like he was on the moon, and he wasn't sure when he was going to come back down. He hurried down the hall to Marlene's room and knocked on the door. As he had hoped, both girls were in there.

"Lexi," he sang, practically skipping into the room. "Thank you so much for getting me through that. You were amazing, too." He wrapped her in a big hug, wet but at least not sweaty. Her face burned red when he released her, and she was having trouble looking at him.

"Not that we aren't enjoying this happy, appreciative Denzel and everything," Marlene said dryly, "but do you think you could put some clothes on now?"


	12. Chapter 12 - Denzel's Time to Shine

**A/N:** We're getting close to the end now. I just wanted to say thanks to all you guys who loyally leave reviews for me. You're the best! I'm a slow writer, so every chapter takes a _lot_ of hours, but it makes it all worthwhile to know that it has some kind of emotional impact on the readers. And now, without further ado...

* * *

 **Chapter 12 - Denzel's Time to Shine**

"Man, I didn't realize how lopsided I was," Denzel complained as he held both arms out in front of himself. "What am I supposed to do with one strong arm and one wimpy arm?

Cloud glanced up from where he was working on Fenrir. It had been a while since they had just hung out in the garage like this. "One for power, one for finesse?" he suggested, a grin quirking his lips. When Denzel continued to stare blankly, he cleared his throat. "Yeah, it's definitely atrophied," he said. "You'll just have to work that one a little harder to get it caught up."

"Hmm. Yeah, I guess," Denzel said. "Hey! Cloud! We haven't had a training session in ages! Can we go practice now?"

Cloud wiped his hands on an oily rag as he considered his request. "Yeah, I suppose. Give me 15 minutes."

Denzel was definitely still on that high from getting his arm back. He could barely sit still while he waited for Cloud to finish what he was doing and get cleaned up and changed. He had gone inside the training room after exactly 15 minutes, and it felt like ages before Cloud finally showed up. He pulled out a key on a chain from one of his many pockets and unlocked the door to the equipment room. Skoll was in there, a shining gem among all the plain, worn practice swords. Denzel was practically drooling to get his hands on it.

"Um…can I…use Skoll? I know it's just practice but…"

The corners of Cloud's mouth twitched upward. "Go ahead. It's yours." Denzel felt another rush of joy at those words. "Just make sure you do the maintenance afterwards."

"I will, I will!" Denzel promised. Cloud chuckled and handed him the sword, grabbing another plain practice sword for himself.

They walked out to the center of the training room—Denzel maybe closer to skipping—and took their stances. Denzel fell into it as naturally as if he'd never been away. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for his arm. It was weak and clumsy. He was almost better off swinging with his right arm alone, which was really sad.

As practice went on, he found himself becoming more and more frustrated. He felt like he was starting all over again. He felt weak and incompetent. The high from his fixed arm was gone. He gritted his teeth and swung hard, putting all of his anger into his motion. The next thing he knew, his hands were empty. It took him a moment to understand that Cloud had disarmed him. He growled and turned to retrieve his sword, but Cloud caught his wrist.

"What?" Denzel demanded. "I'm just going to get it." Cloud didn't say anything, but he didn't release his wrist either. "What's the problem?" Denzel stared hard into cool blue eyes. They were unyielding.

"You have to learn to fight it," Cloud finally said.

"What are you talking about? Fight _you_?" Cloud just shook his head. Denzel was getting really sick of playing this guessing game. Anger and frustration were flowing through him like a current.

 _Oh. That._

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but the anger refused to release him. It was so ridiculous! If Cloud would just let him go and let him get his sword, he would be _fine_. How was he supposed to let go of his anger when Cloud was purposely trying to make him mad?

"This isn't you, Denzel. Don't let her control you."

The thought that his feelings might not be his own was like being doused with cold water. He closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles. _How do I really feel about this?_ He envisioned the current of anger flowing out through his fingertips. _So what if my arm is weak? At least it works! I just need time to make it stronger._ Yes, _those_ were his own thoughts. He opened his eyes again. Cloud released his wrist and gave him a small smile.

"I did it," Denzel said, his own smile spreading. "I beat her!"

Cloud nodded. "You did, but you'll have to keep working at it. She's clever. She'll convince you that you have a reason to…" He trailed off and rubbed his face. "That's probably enough practice for today."

Denzel retrieved his sword and brought it into the equipment room. He couldn't help staring at Cloud as they cleaned up their weapons. He seemed to understand her on a very intimate level. Denzel wanted to ask about it, but Cloud was giving off a strong 'don't wanna talk about it' vibe, so he continued cleaning his sword in silence.

Cloud finished before Denzel, since Denzel had all three blades to clean and oil, but as promised, he didn't complain. Cloud left him to finish his maintenance and wandered off.

Once he had finished with Skoll, Denzel put it back together and stared at his reflection in the gleaming blade. What if he just took it now? Maybe Cloud wouldn't even notice when he came to lock the room back up. Maybe he wouldn't even lock it. After all, he had trusted Denzel enough to let him train with it and enough to leave him to clean it alone.

Denzel tilted the blade from side to side, watching the light bounce off the metal. He felt so much more at home with the sword in his hands. His room felt so empty without the tools that had started to feel like a part of him. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that reclaiming his sword was a good idea. Hadn't he just shown that he could overpower her will?

 _She's clever. She'll convince you that you have a reason to…_

Denzel gritted his teeth and forced himself to put Skoll back where it belonged. The bottom line was that Cloud _had_ given him a small measure of trust. He wasn't going to betray that trust, even if he thought he could get away with it. He left the equipment room and closed the door firmly behind him.

When he walked into the kitchen, he found Cloud leaning against the counter with a bottle of water. He tilted his head as he looked at Denzel. "All finished?"

Denzel nodded. Cloud pulled the key from his pocket as he walked past him to the training room. It really was just a tiny bit of trust, then. Denzel was glad that he had made the right decision.

* * *

Things were starting to feel a little more normal around Seventh Heaven. Tifa had worked with Marlene to figure out her new magic point capacity, which was surprisingly higher than it had been previously. She had gotten their blessing to use materia when she thought it was necessary, with a warning to be very careful not to overdo it again and to avoid Ether completely.

Denzel and Cloud had gotten back on to a regular training schedule. Denzel had some weight training thrown in to help with his weak arm, which was quickly regaining muscle, although it would probably never be as strong as his primary arm.

Marlene was back to her optimistic, cheerful self. She got to spend every lunch hour plus many after-school hours with Lexi, who actually couldn't have cared less if her peers saw her with a younger girl. The biggest point of contention in the household now was how much time Denzel spent tying up the phone lines with Alicia. He alternated between the Seventh Heaven line and the Strife Delivery Service line, depending on time of day. In all honesty, it made Tifa happy that their biggest concern was regular teenage angst.

Cloud didn't seem to be having any more of his episodes; he'd been careful not to use the materia inside of him since they'd returned from their trip. He had an almost constant smell of burning wood about him, but it was actually a rather pleasant scent. Everyone in the house was quite used to it by now. Marlene remarked on it several times, still unaware of the entire situation with the materia, but she gave up asking when everyone else just shrugged.

The reconstruction was finally making some progress. With the additional help of the WRO and some better organization of efforts, much of the downtown area had been repaired already. The school was entirely restored, and Cloud had started delivering packages again. Tifa still helped out with rebuilding before bar hours, and the bar was busier than ever at night. She should have been run ragged from her long hours, but with the release of the stress surrounding her family, she seemed to have tapped into some secret source of hidden energy.

With everything going so well, they should have known that the rug was about to be pulled out from under them again.

* * *

It was Saturday afternoon. Tifa went back and forth between the kitchen and the bar, preparing for the weekend rush. Denzel was sweeping the floor and getting the tables set up. Cloud, Niko, Marlene and Lexi were seated at one of the tables, in the midst of a lively poker game.

Lexi seemed to have gotten over her shyness around Niko, although she was a little more giggly than usual. Denzel found that it didn't even bother him anymore. Niko was genuinely a nice guy who put up with her fawning with good-natured tolerance.

Niko peered over the top of his cards, eyes flickering between the other three. "Check," he finally says.

"Aww come on, Niko! Live a little!" Marlene taunted him.

Denzel turned away to hide his snicker. Niko was terrible at bluffing. If they were playing with real money, he would have been beyond broke. Cloud was master at the poker face, but didn't like to take risks. He bet small and built his stacks of chips a little at a time. Lexi was a mediocre player, never entirely sure when she should be raising and when to fold, or maybe she was just too distracted by Niko to care.

Marlene was as sharp and cunning as always. Sometimes she let her expression slip, but only at carefully calculated times. She threw everyone off until they thought they knew how to read her. Then when she got an amazing hand, she acted the way they expected her to act on a bluff and raked it in. Then she changed up her strategy and reactions and confused them all over again. Her empire of chips grew in leaps and bounds, surpassing Cloud's slow-and-steady approach. Denzel had been thrown off by her constructed reactions enough times by now; it was the main reason he volunteered to help Tifa get the bar ready and let them play.

Cloud stood up suddenly and all chatter in the room stopped. He had that look on his face that they all knew meant he was hearing something.

He scrunched his eyebrows together. "What…?"

They waited patiently for him to finish, but he never did. "What is it, Cloud?" Tifa finally prodded.

He shook his head slowly, still listening. "I'm not sure. It sounds like stone and metal and…it's something big," he said, taking two running steps toward the door, pulling his harness off the hook as he ran by, and then he was out the door.

The slamming of the door was a trigger that threw everyone else into motion. Niko dashed up the stairs to get his gun and vest. Tifa pulled her gloves from her back pocket and wiggled her hands into them as she barked out instructions for the kids to stay put by the phone, and that they would call if they needed them – which of course meant that she had no intention of calling at all.

Denzel ran toward the training room, praying that Cloud had forgotten to lock the equipment room, just this once. He yanked on the handle and then smacked the door in frustration when it didn't budge. Cloud carried the key on him. How was he going to get to his weapon? He hadn't done anything but training since their return, and his fingers itched at the thought of monsters tearing apart his town again.

"Tifa!" He yelled as he ran back through the kitchen, hoping she hadn't left yet. "Tifa, wait!"

Tifa burst through the kitchen door, barreling straight into him. They both stumbled backwards. Tifa caught his shoulders. "What is it, Denzel?

"I need my weapon, Tifa! Cloud keeps the key to the equipment room on him. Can you get in to it?"

Tifa shook her head. "No, Denzel. You stay here. There's no reason for you to get involved."

Denzel's temper flared. "Why are you even bothering to let Cloud train me if you never want me to fight?! Come on, Tifa, this is stupid! I can help."

Tifa chewed on her lip, torn with indecision. The noise outside was loud enough now that everyone else could hear it. It was coming from all directions, clearly audible as growling and screaming and splintering and snapping.

"Look, if you won't help me get to my weapon, I'll just run out there without one."

Shaking her head, Tifa pushed past him. Denzel almost stopped her before he saw her destination. She pulled open a drawer of miscellaneous junk. Her nimble fingers searched rapidly and withdrew a small silver key. She tossed it to Denzel. "Get your sword and then meet me back in the kitchen. Do _not_ leave without me."

Tifa ran for the stairs without glancing back. Denzel grinned and ran back to the equipment room. He slid the key into the lock and it turned easily. He could hear the dramatic music in his head as he pulled open the door. There it was: Skoll, gleaming in the dusty gloom. His fingers wanted to snatch it up, but he ran past it and pulled open a different cupboard. He had finally learned better than to rush out unprepared. Cloud had stressed the importance of mobility, so they didn't keep a ton of armor, but there was a good selection of bracers in there. Denzel usually used only the leather during training because it was flexible and he really didn't need the protection, but this was real. He sifted through them and finally decided on the Dragon Armlet. It had 6 materia slots, and he had to admit that it just _looked_ cool. He slid it on his arm and then grabbed a pair of gloves from the box. He remembered this time why Cloud always wore them. Finally, he snatched Skoll and Skoll's sheath as he ran out.

When he reached the kitchen, Tifa was already there, digging through a large box of materia. Denzel's fancy wooden materia box sat next to it. With a grin, Denzel opened his and slid his few pieces into the slots. He looked over at the giant box. "Can I use some of yours?" he asked Tifa.

"Take what you need," she said distractedly, pulling out various pieces.

It wasn't at all sorted, and it took them some time to figure out what everything was. They had to pull out every piece to listen to it, as Denzel quickly learned that it was pointless to try to listen when it was touching a dozen other pieces. She really could have used a box like Denzel's.

Eventually he found enough materia to fill all of his slots. He'd found an All materia to link with Ice, his naturally strongest element. He also equipped several that he'd never used before – mostly status effects that were really hit-or-miss whether the monsters were vulnerable, but he may get a chance to try them. He already had all four basic elements and a Restore equipped.

Tifa closed the box and checked over his equipment. She nodded with approval. "Ok, let's go. Stay close to me," she ordered.

Marlene and Lexi watched with wide eyes as the two of them ran through the bar area. They stepped out into the street and looked around. They could see monsters in every direction. Some of them were just wandering aimlessly, not necessarily attacking anyone or destroying anything, so they weren't a priority yet, but they had no idea where to start.

A scream from the north made the decision for them. Tifa and Denzel raced toward the sound just in time to witness a young woman being cut down by a bagnadrana. Denzel raised his sword and sliced through its neck before it could take a chomp of the screaming toddler next to her. Tifa knelt down and administered a cure, helping the woman to her feet. "Take your son and get to the town hall," she said.

"How?" the woman cried.

They turned around to look. The streets were filled with beasts. There was no way a civilian would be able to get past all of them to the hall. Tifa flexed her fingers restlessly. "Alright. We'll cut a path through, and you follow us there. Stay close, but not so close that you get in the way. Got it?"

The woman nodded shakily and propped the little boy up on her hip.

Tifa locked eyes with Denzel. "Are you ready for this?"

Denzel nodded with determination. "I'm ready."

They fought their way forward, slicing and punching and kicking. When Denzel had room to breathe, he looked around at the mob. There had to be a better way to take these guys down than one at a time. He closed his eyes and called out to the lifestream. It swirled around him, the power rushing through his fingers. He opened them and cast blizzaga.

"Denzel, no!" Tifa yelled, but she was too late.

A loud crackling surrounded them as ice raced around them in a circle. Tifa dove on top of the woman and the little boy, knocking them to the ground, covering them with her body. The little boy started to wail again. Tifa cringed as the ice coated her back and then shattered.

"Tifa!" Denzel cried. He ran over and helped her up. "Tifa, I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking about them—"

Tifa checked over the woman and child, who had taken a bit of damage from the ice, although Tifa had absorbed the brunt of it. "Denzel, you can't use materia like that when there are civilians so close. Wide area spells like that hit _everything_."

Denzel felt like he'd been slapped. He should have known better. The woman looked like she was on the verge of tears, the parts of her that had been exposed covered with nasty frostbite. The toddler had one bright red ear and was sobbing in earnest. Denzel reached over and cured them. Tifa winced and looked at the remaining monsters around them. His spell had actually taken out quite a few, so it wasn't actually the worst thing he could have done.

"Come on," she said, starting toward the town hall again. As soon as the woman was out of hearing range, she leaned over next to his ear, "and conserve your magic points. I know it sounds harsh, but they weren't critical. It's going to be a very long day and you'll need them."

She spun and kicked a grounded diablo in the face to punctuate her sentence. Denzel got the hint. Break time was over. He raised his sword and charged in to the mob, slashing and slicing and parrying. He was pleased to see that the armlet was actually protecting him from quite a few hits. The rest of the damage was mainly bumps and scrapes. So far everything was superficial, and he intended to keep Tifa's warning in mind. He didn't need to heal himself yet.

Tifa jumped high into the air to grab the foot of a dive-bombing lessaloploth. At the height of her jump, over the heads of the mob of monsters, she saw a small group of people cowering in a nearby doorway. She grabbed the foot of the lessaloploth and hurled it into the mob, knocking them over like bowling pins. She landed next to Denzel. "Clear a path to that doorway," she shouted over the deafening noises of the monsters.

Denzel nodded and cut a swath through them while Tifa protected the woman and child from the mob that crowded in from all sides. When he reached the group, he cleared out the space in front of the doorway. "Follow us to the town hall," he yelled.

"Wait!" A middle-aged man called as he turned away. "My wife, she can't—"

Denzel looked back at the woman in his arms. She had a deep slash across her chest. She definitely looked critical.

"And my husband!" another lady said. The man slumped on the ground against a wall. He wouldn't be walking anywhere, either.

Denzel glanced back at Tifa, but she was too far away to ask. She was in the middle of a large stampede, trying to keep anything from getting past her. He held up his hand and cured both of them.

"Ok, now let's go," he said.

"What about my arm?" A little girl's trembling voice drew his attention. She had wisps of dark hair floating around her head like a halo. Her big brown eyes pleaded with him. Her arm looked broken, but she could walk.

It physically hurt him to do it, but he forced himself to shake his head. "I'm sorry, I can't. They'll fix you up when you get to the town hall." He jumped in front of another woman and stabbed an 8 eye reaching for her. They had to move. "We'll try to clear a path to get you all to the hall. Stay close, but not close enough to get hit, ok?"

The people all nodded in agreement and Denzel started re-clearing the path that had filled in between him and Tifa. When he reached her, she looked over at him and smiled. "You really can handle yourself on the battlefield, can't you?"

The compliment sent a warm feeling through him, but he didn't have time to enjoy it. They were moving forward again. Denzel cut through the front, killing most of the monsters. Tifa covered the back and sides of their little group, which grew as they made their way toward the hall and found more survivors. She focused on flinging most of them far away. It was quicker and she didn't have time to actually kill everything that threatened the civilians.

It took the better part of an hour for them to reach the town hall. By then, their group had swelled to about 50 people. Denzel practically fell through the door. He grabbed on to the back of a bench just inside the doorway, trying to hold himself up while staying out of the way of the people stampeding in behind him. He slid Skoll into his sheath. It was still covered in gore, and now it was on the inside of the sheath, too. He would have to clean them both later.

"Sit down, dear. You need a break."

Denzel raised his head. Eleanor Joya gave him a kindly smile and gestured to the bench. Gratefully, he dropped his weight onto the bench and rested his head against the wall. "Here, drink this," she said, holding out a potion.

"It's ok, I don't need it," he said, pushing it away wearily.

Ms. Joya's voice took on the commanding tone of a mother. "Don't be stubborn, Denzel. I can see that you clearly do, and if you intend on going back out there, you need your strength even more."

He lifted his head out of sheer surprise. He didn't realize that she even knew his name. He looked down at himself, for the first time really feeling the assorted aches and stinging throughout his body. There was blood _everywhere_ , although he couldn't say to whom it actually belonged. Finally, he reached over and took the vial from Ms. Joya. It almost slipped through his fingers, but the grip on the gloves saved him.

She sat there and watched him drink the whole thing, as if he were a kid who might try to get out of taking his medicine if she weren't looking. Actually, he reflected that it probably _was_ what she was thinking. As the thick liquid slid down his throat, he felt a gradual easing of the pain. It wasn't the same as a cure. There was no cool tingle, and it was slower, but it seemed to restore some energy, too.

Denzel handed her the empty vial and she took it gingerly. It was covered in blood from his gloves. He smiled sheepishly. "You got a towel or something?"

Tifa came through the door at the end of the train of civilians. "Tifa!" Ms. Joya jumped up and grabbed her wrist. "Is Marlene coming? We could really use her help again."

Tifa glanced over the town hall doubtfully. "I don't know, Eleanor," she said. She was torn between the need to protect Marlene and the desire to help all of these clearly wounded people.

"Please, Tifa," she practically begged. "Tell me what to do to keep her safe. I'll try to keep her from overdoing it again, but these people are dying without her. There's nothing Doc Marten or I can do to help them after a certain point, but _she can_." Her eyes filled up with tears as she looked over at the corner. There were already several bodies lined up there.

Tifa looked pained as she peeled off a glove and pulled her phone from a deep pocket. She selected Cloud's number and sat on the bench next to Denzel, giving him an encouraging smile while she waited for him to pick up.

"Tifa?" was his greeting. "Is everything ok?" Denzel could hear everything, including the sound of his sword slicing through beasts and his slightly elevated breathing.

"Yeah, we're ok," Tifa said. "Are you still near Fenrir?"

"Uh huh. Why?" * _Swish, thud. Swish, thud._ *

"Can you bring Marlene and Lexi to the town hall?"

 _*Swish, thud. Swish, thud. Swish, thud.*_ That was how long he hesitated – three strikes of his sword. "Are you sure?"

Tifa sighed. "Yeah. She'll have to be careful, but if she can save their lives…"

The familiar roar of the engine came through the speaker. "Ok, I'm on my way." _*Click*_

Short and to the point, like all of his phone calls. Tifa put away her phone and her expression grew stern as she looked at Ms. Joya. "I'm counting on you to take care of her, Eleanor. No more than two Ethers, and please, only the most critical cases."

Ms. Joya pressed her lips together. "I'll do my best, Tifa, but if it comes down to someone's death or her weakness…"

Tifa slouched against the bench, her expression resigned. "I know. You're right. Just…use your best judgement." She scanned the room again. "Is Carey here? We should each take a couple of Ethers, too."

"Yes, he's right over there," she said, pointing to the hairy apothecary.

Tifa stood and made her way across the hall. There was a brief discussion and then Carey pulled out several bottles and lined them up along the counter. Denzel grinned, reading the conversation from their body language as clearly as if he could hear their voices. Tifa was offering to pay for the bottles and Carey was insisting that she was helping the town and he couldn't possibly charge her for them.

He stood and tried to find a clean enough place on his pants to wipe his gloves. He had rested enough. It was time to get back out there. He swiped his hands against his legs, but it was hard to tell if they were getting any cleaner.

"I'm sorry, Denzel, I forgot. Here." Ms. Joya held out a folded handkerchief – one of the pink flowered hankies she'd used to triage last time.

Denzel accepted it with a smile and a soft "thanks." It reminded him of the hankies Ruvie used to make. He wiped his gloves and then the handle of his sword, much more satisfied with the grip.

"Here, take a few more with you," she said, tucking more of the pink-flowered hankies in one of his hip pockets. "You'll probably need them later."

Tifa returned and held out two bottles of Ether and two hi-potions. "Here, take these with you." She frowned as she looked at his waist. "You don't have a supply belt."

Denzel shook his head. "I guess my pockets will work for now." He took the bottles and tucked two into the pocket with the hankies, the other two into the pocket at the opposite hip.

Tifa tucked away her own supplies and nodded. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

They stepped outside and gaped at the monsters who had congregated around the town hall. They clearly knew where the people were gathering. It was going to make it even harder for the citizens to find their way to safety.

Screams and cries for help echoed from all directions. Tifa got that determined look on her face. "I'll get these people. You get to the old man," she said, pointing to their targets.

The old man was only about a block from the city hall, but his luck had very nearly run out. He was cornered in an alley blocked by a dumpster. Another bagnadrana was trying unsuccessfully to squeeze into the crack. As Denzel sliced and slashed his way toward the mouth of the alley, he heard the rapidly approaching clicking of nails against pavement behind him. He spun around just in time to catch the Nibel wolf leaping at his face.

He swung frantically, catching one rear foot, but it still knocked Denzel to the ground. The edge of his armlet struck the pavement, causing an unexpected jarring down his arm. He let out a startled cry as he dropped his sword and it skittered out of his reach.

The weight of the Nibel wolf pressed down on his chest. A long string of drool stretched slowly down to land on Denzel's neck. He stayed absolutely still, breathing as shallowly as possible. A growl was rumbling low in the wolf's throat. He didn't want to startle it into attacking.

He didn't recognize many of the animals he'd been fighting that day, but he knew this one, because Cloud had told him stories about them on their camping trip. Denzel didn't know anything about its strengths or weaknesses; he only knew that it was a long, long way from home and had no business near Midgar.

He had asked about some of the odd beasts during the very first attack.

 _'Isn't there some kind of book with all of these different monsters?' Denzel had asked._

 _Cloud had laughed out loud. 'Ah, I doubt it. People don't generally go searching out these things. They stay as far away from them as possible.'_

 _'But_ you've _seen them all, Cloud. Haven't you? You fought your way across the whole planet.'_

 _Cloud had scratched the back of his head in that familiar gesture that always put Denzel at ease. 'Yeah, I guess so, but I didn't exactly stop to take pictures.'_

So now here he was, a completely foreign beast threatening to rip his throat out, and he was helpless. He would need to move several feet to the side to get his sword, but the wolf was on a hair-trigger. There was no one nearby. There was no one coming to help him because no one would know that he needed help.

Denzel could feel the sweat trickling down the side of his face. The wolf's teeth shone in the late afternoon sun as it snarled, but his teeth weren't the only shiny thing. Something else glinted in the corner of his eye. Denzel looked in that direction, careful not to move anything but his eyes. The red jewel in the Dragon Armlet sparkled.

 _Of course! I'm not helpless!_

He closed his eyes and called out to the lifestream. The wolf seemed to sense something, raising its hackles and digging its claws into Denzel's chest. He ignored the pain, focusing all of his energy on the space around the wolf. A moment later, it was completely encased in ice. Denzel lifted a shoulder and the block of frozen wolf tipped sideways, shattering on the pavement.

The whole showdown felt like it took ages, but it must have all happened in a matter of seconds, because no other beasts had converged on him while he was pinned down by the wolf. He got to his feet and scrambled over to his sword, feeling the comforting weight in his hands. He started toward the alley again, realizing then why none of the other monsters had shown interest in him. They were busy eating.

Most of them didn't even know he was coming. He cut them all down from behind, mowing a path to the alley. He shoved the last dead beast out of the way with his foot and looked to see what it had been blocking. He immediately turned his head and vomited what was left of his grilled cheese from lunch.

It was kindly old Mr. Mio from the general store – or at least what was left of him. He had always been nice to Denzel, slipping him penny candy that he saw him eyeing longingly through the glass display case. He would always hold a finger to his lips and wink, whispering to Denzel that he'd better not tell Tifa that he'd ruined his dinner. Now that he was older, he realized that Mr. Mio had always been teasing him; that one little piece of candy never ruined his dinner. This image, on the other hand, would stick with him for a long, long time. He wasn't sure if he would ever want to eat again.

Denzel leaned his face against the cool brick of the building, catching his breath and spitting the acrid taste out of his mouth. He briefly thought about returning his body to the town hall so that he could be properly mourned, but he swallowed hard and stood up. The living had to be a priority.

He forced himself to look back at the grisly scene in the alley. "Sorry, Mr. Mio," he whispered as he leaned down and closed the old man's eyes.

* * *

Tifa burst through the door of the town hall, her eyes seeking out her little brunette. "Marlene!" she called, dashing across the room, ducking around the people milling slowly with nowhere to go.

Marlene finished sealing up the inside of the wound she had been treating. She had been leaving people's outsides to be healed some other way. As long as they weren't bleeding out, she was repairing internal organs and then passing them on to someone else.

Tifa skidded up to her and grabbed her arm. "Marlene! Have you seen Denzel? I can't find him anywhere."

Marlene's brow wrinkled. "Yeah, I've seen him a couple times. I think he's been bringing people in."

Tifa glanced back at the door, chewing on her bottom lip. She must have been doing a lot of chewing that day, because it was already bleeding in a couple places. She pulled out her phone and called Cloud, repeating the question to him.

"I thought he was with you," Cloud said, a note of accusation in his tone.

"He was, but we got separated near the town hall," she said guiltily.

"I'm nowhere near there, Tifa." He paused for a second. "Do you want me to come and help you look?"

Tifa tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice. "No, it's ok. I'm sure I'll find him before you get all the way over here."

Even Marlene could see through that. She hoped Cloud would, too.

"Ok. Let me know if you find him."

Tifa agreed and hung up the phone. Marlene wondered if Cloud was on his way over anyway. Tifa looked down at her again. "Are you still doing ok?"

"I'm fine," Marlene said. She really was. Her capacity for healing was so much greater now that she wasn't even close to needing her first Ether. It seemed ridiculous how overly cautious they were being. Those people were in pain and she could have helped them, but at least they were alive.

Unexpectedly, Tifa pulled her into a tight hug. She ran her hand over Marlene's soft hair. "Be careful, ok?" she murmured in her ear.

Marlene found herself strangely choked up by the gesture. "I will," she said, hoping to reassure Tifa. "And if I see Denzel again, I'll tell him to wait here for you."

Tifa smiled and gave her one last squeeze. "Thanks, honey." Then she turned and ran back out the door.

* * *

Denzel was on his own, but at least he had his trusty pal, Skoll. He didn't see Tifa after leaving Mr. Mio, but he had heard several more cries for help and had escorted many people to the town hall.

An itch started in his head, faster and more intense than any before. He stopped and closed his eyes. He didn't have time to draw, but he could see a little bit through the distorted, blurred image in his mind.

It was the town square. It was almost the same as the drawing he had made back at the cabin, but only half as damaged. _Is it happening right now?_ He didn't know for sure, but he wasn't going to ignore his instincts this time. He took off at a run toward the square, feeling more certain with every step than the rumbling was originating there.

He came around the corner of Mr. Mio's store and skidded to a stop. There, swatting at the entryway to the postal building, was the biggest and strangest looking monster Denzel had ever seen. It was taller than any of the buildings in the square, and could be most closely approximated to an adamantoise, if that adamantoise were violent and blind and flailing around in an enclosed space.

Denzel pulled out his sword just in time to deflect a flying brick that was on a straight line to his left eye. There was so much debris flying that it was hard to tell what was happening. He needed to get behind something and strategize. Cloud had lectured him on that enough times. _'Don't just rush in, guns blazing, unless you_ know _you can win like that.'_

A fallen beam provided a fairly sheltered area in the northwest corner of the square, so Denzel made a run for it. He deflected a few more pieces of debris on the way, and didn't deflect a few more. By the time he slid behind the beam, he was scratched and bleeding in several places, but a quick evaluation told him they were minor enough to ignore.

The beast had sharp, assorted spikes covering its back and tail. The tail was long, even longer than the body, causing the majority of the damage just flipping back and forth. As Denzel watched, it turned in just the right way to take down the monument in the center of the square. The skin of the beast was saggy and wrinkled, but for all of the destruction to the square, he didn't appear to have a single snag. His skin was tough. That made the sword most likely useless. What now?

 _'Look for weaknesses. What element is it using? Which side of its body is it shielding? If it's covered by a shell or some kind of armor, are there any openings?'_ Denzel heard it so clearly that Cloud might have been speaking right in his ear.

The skin under its spikes did look hardened, but the rest of the skin must have also been strong enough. That left its eyes as the most vulnerable place, but they were far too high to reach with his sword.

 _'Watch for its behavior. What are the monster's motivations?'_

Well, that was a good question. It seemed to be digging for something, swatting continuously at the entrance to the post office with its short front legs. The opening was slowly crumbling with each swat. Whatever it wanted, it would be reaching it soon. Denzel needed to get a closer look.

He darted out from his shelter, following the perimeter of the square to get around to the side of the monster. As he reached the next corner, he heard something more chilling than the growls and snorts of the beast: screaming. Human screaming. Denzel pulled himself up the side of one of the crumbling buildings, trying to see inside the entryway. It wasn't entirely effective, since he was still trying to block debris with his sword, but he was able to get just high enough to see. The people were indeed huddled in that entryway, only they weren't just people – it was Jason and Jesse. As he watched, the monster swatted again, clipping the arms that they were using to shield their heads. It was almost reaching them. Denzel was out of time for strategizing.

"Time for guns blazing," he murmured. Elements would be a crapshoot, but he had to try something. Dropping down to the ground, he held up his sword in front of him, the way he had been taught for lightning. It was the strongest materia he had, and he only had one giant beast to aim for, so it seemed like a good bet. Denzel focused as hard as he could, the lifestream immediately swirling around him. He raised his sword high, throwing his whole body into it. A bolt of lightning streaked down from the sky, spearing the beast right in the middle of its back.

The beast didn't even flinch, but Denzel bet the twins had, judging by their screams. "Try something else, Denzel," he muttered aloud. So he did. He tried sleep, toad, and poison, to absolutely no effect. Maybe it was time to try his sword after all. He swallowed hard and held Skoll over his shoulder, then charged.

It might have been his best slash-magic combo attack ever, if he hadn't ended up flat on his back before he ever reached the monster. Struggling to pull breath into his lungs, he pushed himself into a sitting position. Cloud had knocked the wind out of him a few times during practice, but this was different. He was vulnerable. He couldn't lay there until he recovered. There wouldn't be an outstretched hand to help him to his feet. Luckily, he was a fly on the wall as far as the beast was concerned.

He tried to get to his feet, but they slid out from under him again. Denzel would have screamed in frustration if he'd been capable of pulling in that much air yet, but he wasn't. He looked down at the ground and something clicked. Ice! He was on ice! In fact, the unidentified coating he'd seen in his drawing was frost covering everything within a 25-foot radius of the monster.

Carefully this time, he stood up, ignoring the groans of his bruised and battered body. At least he could breathe now. He glanced around for something sturdy. He would need to brace himself on something in order to cast fire, or the force would throw him backwards without the friction of his feet on the ground.

One of the boys was crying rather loudly now, and Denzel prayed he wasn't already too late. "Jesse! Jason!" he yelled, working his way around behind the monster. The crying quieted. "Hang in there, I'm coming!"

"Please! Please hurry!" one of them sobbed. "My brother…he's—"

Denzel didn't wait to hear what was wrong with one of the brothers, though. He had reached what was left of the monument, wrapped his left arm around it, and braced his foot in front of it. With a burst from his almost-mastered fire materia, he rained fire down on the monster.

This time, the monster responded. He roared and turned around, looking for the source of the fire.

"Guys, RUN!" Denzel shouted.

Jesse and Jason didn't ask questions. They darted out of the doorway and ran.

The monster honed in on Denzel and started toward him with lumbering footsteps. The ground shook with every step and roar of the giant beast. Denzel was fairly certain he was the only other living being in the square now. He had free reign to pour fire on the monster. He cast firaga again, and the beast roared and reared back in its burning shower.

It was working, but Denzel needed to move. It was getting too close to the monument that he was using for support. He had long since lost track of how much magic he had been using, so he was only slightly surprised when his next spell fizzled at his fingertips as he ran backwards. Firaga took a lot out of him.

The last couple blasts of fire had melted much of the ice on the ground, but for every step closer the beast lumbered, frost spread and water re-froze. Denzel fumbled in his pocket for an Ether, untangling it from one of Ms. Joya's hankies. He kept backing up, one hand still using his sword to block flying debris. He pulled the cork out of the bottle with his teeth and dropped it on the ground. An especially large chunk of building materials flew at him, forcing Denzel to duck. Some of the Ether spilled onto his hand from the open bottle. He swore under his breath, feeling foolish as he tried to lick the valuable liquid off his glove, and then spitting as he realized how much coppery blood was mixed in. He spit out as much as he could and then poured the rest of the bottle into his mouth.

He wasn't moving fast enough. The ice had gotten behind him and he now had to contend with the slippery ground while he cast his fire. He did it anyway, the force throwing him to the ground as he expected.

"Denzel! This way!"

The voice was faint. Denzel's eyes scanned the square as he got to his feet and tried to put some distance between himself and the monster.

"Up here!" The voice called again. "The skybridge!"

Denzel looked up. Jesse and Jason were at the center of the skybridge that arched over the top of the square. He could see one of their backs, sitting against the rails of the bridge, but the other was standing and waving his arm.

He glanced at the rest of the square. The destruction was nearly as complete as his drawing now. He couldn't remember seeing the skybridge in the picture, though. It ran from one corner of the square to the opposite corner, offering pedestrians a top-down view of the heart of the city. It was high enough to be above the drawing, which also made it high enough to be out of the beast's reach. It was brilliant.

Taking a chance, knowing Cloud would probably have scolded him if he'd been there, Denzel turned his back to the monster and made a run for the skybridge. He cast firaga once more when he was out of the reach of the ice, grinning at the pained sound it made every time fire struck its frozen skin.

He reached the bottom of the skybridge and leapt onto the stairs. He slid his sword into its sheath and used the railing to swing onto the bridge, his momentum propelling him partially up the slope. It was a long way up though, and Denzel was already pretty tired. By the time he reached the twins in the center, he dropped to his hands and knees to catch his breath.

"You made it," Jason said weakly. He was the one sitting on the ground, leaning against the railing of the skybridge. Denzel could see why now. A nasty gash across one thigh dripped blood down the side of his jeans and formed a puddle on the bridge below it. His brother must have supported most of his weight, or he would never have made it up the slope of the skybridge.

Denzel held up his hand, ready to heal him. The lack of color in his face told Denzel that it was critical enough, but he stopped himself. He was going to need those magic points. He reached into his pocket instead, untangling the potion from one of the hankies. "Here, drink this," he said, handing it to Jason.

Jason took it hesitantly. "You look like you need it, Denzel."

Denzel waved it away. "I'm fine. Besides, I have another one that I can use later if I really get hurt." Jason didn't look convinced. "If we have to run, you won't be able to keep up," Denzel added. "It will just slow us all down. Drink it."

Jason finally popped off the cap and swallowed down the potion. He sighed in relief and closed his eyes while he waited for the effects to work their way through his system.

"Uh, guys?" Jesse said from above them. "I think it figured out where we are."

Jason and Denzel both stood and looked down at the square. The beast was sniffing the air as it lumbered closer to the skybridge. It stopped directly in front of the bridge and eyed them hungrily.

It rose up on its hind legs, and Denzel suddenly realized that he might have underestimated its size. It may be able to reach them after all. He held out his sword over the top of the railing, quickly running through the options in his mind. Firaga was wide range and he now had to worry about the sides of the skybridge catching on fire. He wasn't sure he could safely use it. It would have to be fira. He could shoot it in a straight line and be sure not to hit anything he didn't want to. He would just have to hope it was strong enough to damage the thing.

He set his jaw, focused, and then swung down his sword over the side. A line of fire shot out from the end of the blade and zapped the monster. It reacted slightly, but it was such a small shot of fire for such a big beast. It shook off the blast and stood up all the way, swatting at the bridge.

All three boys yelped when his claw smashed into the center of the bridge. The floor of the bridge was made of wood, but the supports underneath it were made of metal, and it wouldn't easily break those. Denzel wasn't willing to bet that it _couldn't_ break them though, so he braced his knees around the wooden spindles that stretched between the floor of the bridge and the railing. They felt pretty sturdy, so he put both hands on his sword and focused harder.

His beams of fire were doing little more than distracting the monster, but he kept at it because as long as it was distracted, it wouldn't take another swipe at the bridge.

He had actually been keeping track of his magic points this time and he knew he was getting low. He switched his sword to his left hand and reached into his pocket with his right.

"Ouch!" Denzel jerked his hand back and looked at the dot of blood growing on the end of his middle finger.

"What happened?" Jason asked. The twins were standing on either side of Denzel, watching him throwing the fire from the side of the bridge, but unable to do anything to help.

"I think I—" Denzel reached gingerly back into his pocket. He felt around carefully. Liquid and broken glass. He groaned. "That other Ether and hi-potion broke." The bottles in his right pocket had been cushioned by Ms. Joya's handkerchiefs, but the bottles in his left must have banged together and shattered while he was fighting.

Jesse and Jason looked panicked. "What does that mean, Denzel?"

For their sake, Denzel tried to look confident and self-assured, the way Cloud always did when things were spiraling out of his control. "It's fine," he said. "I can't cast for much longer, though." The twins knew nothing about materia and he wasn't going to take the time to explain it to them right then.

"What—what do we do?" Jesse stuttered. Apparently Denzel hadn't pulled off his imitation of Cloud.

Denzel tried to keep his breathing steady and even, his voice calm. "We're gonna need to run. I'll distract him with fire as long as I can while you two run off the far side of the bridge." They all grabbed the railing as another swipe made the bridge shudder.

"What about you?" Jesse asked. "How will you get down?"

"When you get far enough away," Denzel said, "you'll have to get its attention somehow."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Jesse pressed.

"I don't know!" Denzel said, holding on for another shudder. "Figure something out!"

He leaned over and sent another beam of fira. It hit him close to the eye, startling the beast back down onto all four legs.

Jason was suddenly very calm. "I'll be the bait. You two run."

"No way!" Jesse said, panicked.

"No one is going to be bait!" Denzel yelled. "We're all gonna get out of here. Ok? On three, I'm gonna start throwing fire like crazy and you guys run. Are you ready?"

"Denzel, there's something I have to tell you," Jason said urgently.

" _Later_ ," Denzel said irritably. "One….two…"

"No, you need to listen now!" Jason yelled.

Then they all heard the most beautiful sound. It was gunfire. The three boys looked across the square to see a familiar WRO vest, the soldier shooting fire bullets at the beast. It growled and turned to face the newest annoyance.

"It's Niko!" Denzel yelled.

"Come on, ugly," Niko taunted it as he walked backwards and continued shooting. "I have some very lovely tanks for you to meet out here where it's more ooooopeeeeen," he sang.

The next bullet hit the monster in the snout. It roared and crouched down in that universal ready-to-pounce stance. Niko's eyes grew wide and he turned and ran. The monster took a springing leap at their savior.

Denzel's overwhelming feeling of relief lasted for exactly half a second, which was how long it took him to realize that the monster's tail had flipped up and torn through the side of the skybridge. In another half second, it flipped back down, dragging the broken bridge down to create steep vertical slopes that flattened out next to the break.

Acting purely on instinct, he grabbed the wrists of both of his companions as they were tossed briefly in the air before they all slid down the steep incline that lead to the hole in the bridge. Denzel spread his legs wide, trying to catch them with the spindles that lined the walkway, but they were mainly decorative, preventing people from falling through but not meant to hold the plunging weight of three almost-grown young men.

He felt spindle after spindle snapping against the tops of his boots, but incredibly, their plunge was slowing. Finally, three sets of spindles before the gaping hole in the bridge, their movement stopped. The twins were both yelling, dangling off the edge. Only Denzel's boots and three pairs of delicate spindles kept them from plunging to the wreck of the square, far below.

Most of Denzel's body was still on the wood of the bridge. It reached about to his chest, where he clung desperately to the twins. They were still screaming. "Guys. Guys! Shut up!" Denzel yelled.

It was like a switch had been flipped. They fell instantly silent. The only noise was the distant echo of shooting and roaring, three sets of heavily breathing lungs, and the wind knocking one half-broken board against the bridge. Denzel thought the quiet might help him think, but it didn't. He couldn't think of a single idea to get them out of their predicament.

Jesse and Jason weren't going to be much help. They didn't seem to be able to move past the idea that they were experiencing the last few moments of their lives. All they could do was cling to the arm that prevented them from falling to their deaths.

"Ok," Denzel finally said, surprised at how calm he sounded. "I can't pull you guys up like this. I don't have any leverage and I can't support all of your weight with one arm. You're gonna have to pull yourselves up. Climb up my arm. Can you do that?"

Neither of the boys answered. "Jason!" he snapped. "Can you do that?" Jason had seemed the calmest of both before the bridge had snapped, and he had the added handicap of hanging on to Denzel's weaker left arm, which was already screaming under the strain.

Hearing his name seemed to snap him out of it. "I—I'll try. I'm not as strong as you, Denzel."

"You just have to be able to lift your own weight. Just like the climbing rope. Or maybe a pull-up." Denzel knew it wouldn't be that simple, but he hoped Jason wouldn't realize that. Their arms had been jerked and pulled and strained when they fell, and now they'd been hanging on them for a few minutes more. "It's just like gym class," he said soothingly. "You can do it."

Jason took a solidifying breath and adjusted his grip. Letting go of Denzel's arm with one shaking hand, he grabbed it again a few inches higher. Gripping it tighter, he let go with his other hand and shot it up a couple more inches.

Denzel was having trouble breathing. Their weight was pulling him against the slope of the bridge and the muscles in his shoulders ached with the strain, not to mention that his hands were losing circulation under their grips, but he tried not to let them hear him struggling. Jason was making progress. It would only be for a little longer.

*Snap* The two spindles against his boots lost their battle with their weight. All three of them screamed as they slid forward several more inches, until Denzel's boots caught on the next two spindles. The edge of the bridge now fell at Denzel's ribs.

Jason let out a quiet sob. "I can't do this, Denzel. Even if I were strong enough, there's no time. Those spindles can't hold all our weight." He stopped and added quietly, "but they could hold the weight of two for longer."

Denzel didn't know what to say. There was no physical way he was going to be able to pull them both on the bridge, and the weak spindles were a ticking time bomb waiting for them to find a solution. He kept his mouth shut. He wasn't going to admit that he was pretty sure that all three of them were experiencing their last sunset.

"Don't even _think_ about it," Jesse seethed. "Don't you dare leave me!"

"I can save you two," Jason mused quietly, "or we can all die together. You know this can't hold us all."

"No! No way! I'll let go then!" Jesse cried.

"Jesse…you know why it has to be me."

"No! No, Jason! We'll find some other way!" Tears streaked down Jesse's face and dropped, sparkling in the fading sun all the way down to the wreckage below.

"When?" Jason's voice rose from his calm musing to anguish. "How much more blood on my hands before we can find another way? Nineteen last time, who knows how many this time…I can't have any more on my conscience."

*Snap* Two more pegs snapped. They all screamed and slid again. Denzel's boots caught on the next two spindles. He was bent at the waist now, adding the fun of the blood rushing to his head.

Jesse was sobbing in earnest now. "It's not your fault! You couldn't help it!"

Denzel adjusted his grip again, trying desperately to hang on to Jason with his weaker left arm. He wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

Jason smiled softly, completely calm now. "It doesn't matter. It has to stop."

"No, Jason, don't! Don't leave me!" Jesse screamed frantically.

Jason pulled in one last deep breath. "I love you, Jesse." And then he let go. Despite knowing that he was right, Denzel couldn't help himself from gripping his hand tighter. It didn't matter. His fingers alone couldn't hold him. Jason slipped away, closing his eyes as he fell.

The sound of Jesse's tortured scream would be with Denzel for a long time, but he forced himself to keep moving. With his left hand freed, he was able to reach back and grab the top left railing. He had a little more leverage to pull them both back up, but it wasn't enough. His arms were exhausted. His shoulders screamed in pain.

"Jesse! Jesse, listen to me! I'm really sorry about your brother, but you need to focus now. You need to climb up."

"No," Jesse sobbed. "It's not worth it, not without him. You don't understand, Denzel."

"Hey!" Denzel used his voice like a slap. It was harsh, but he didn't have time to be gentle. "You want to leave your dad alone? You want him to lose two sons? How do you think he'll deal with that?"

It seemed to get through. Jesse looked up and met his eyes. "What—what do I do?"

Denzel breathed a sigh of relief. "I have a little more leverage now. I'm going to try to pull you up high enough to reach this last board. If you can put enough of your weight on that board, I might be able to pull you the rest of the way. Do you understand?"

Jesse didn't seem to be entirely clearheaded yet, but he nodded hesitantly. "I understand."

"Ok, on the count of three," Denzel said, adjusting his grip on the railing. "Ready? One…two…three!"

Denzel used every remaining ounce of strength in his arms to pull Jesse up. As soon as it was in reach, Jesse grabbed the board. The remaining skybridge began bouncing violently. The board splintered and Jesse lost his grip, dropping back down. His weight jerked against Denzel's damaged arm one more time, and with an innocent sounding *pop* his shoulder joint popped out of its socket.

Denzel screamed.

"Oh god Denzel! Are you ok? What do I do?" Jesse yelled as the skybridge continued bouncing.

Denzel couldn't form a coherent thought. The pain was indescribable. Nothing else mattered, and now Jesse's grip was the only thing keeping him from plunging down to join his brother.

Jesse reached up with his free arm once more, latching on to the piece of board that had broken, but not completely disconnected from the skybridge. It wouldn't be strong enough to hold his weight, but it took some of the pressure from Denzel's shoulder.

"Jesse!" The cause of the bouncing became clear as Jameson's loafers stopped just short of the crumbling edge of the skybridge. "Jesse, hang on! I'll pull you up!" he yelled. The big man stretched out on his belly next to the part of Denzel still on the bridge, reaching both arms over the edge to grab his son's. He grabbed the wrist holding on to the broken wood and pulled, scooting himself backwards like a worm.

Gradually, the excruciating weight on Denzel's shoulder lessened. Jesse pulled himself up far enough to reach the railing and put his knee on the board. Jameson wrapped his arms around Jesse's chest and with one big heave, pulled him back to safety.

"Dad!" Jesse clung to his father, although for comfort instead of necessity now. "Dad…Jason…he…he fell and…"

"I know, son. I saw. I saw." His voice turned from sorrow to anger. "That boy. Cloud's boy, he let him fall." Jameson set his son aside and rose up on his knees above Denzel.

Denzel was helpless. With his left arm wrenched behind his back and his right too painful to even consider moving, he couldn't pull himself up any more than he could have lifted both of the twins with one arm.

"Dad, no!" Jesse yelled, pulling at his father's arm.

Jameson ignored his son. "You. You are an extension of him. He took away my Tifa. You took away my Jason." His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered to a growl. "Maybe he should know how it feels."

Denzel couldn't do anything but whimper.

"Dad! Stop, dad! He tried to save us. It wasn't Denzel's fault!" Jesse was pleading frantically, trying desperately to get his father's attention, but Jameson was advancing slowly on his knees, flexing his hands, preparing himself to do something terrible.

"Dad! You can't just kill someone! You'll go to jail and leave me all alone and…" Jesse's voice dissolved into incoherent crying.

Jameson blinked and looked back at his sobbing son. Sanity and reason filtered back into his eyes. He put his hand over his mouth. "Gods, what am I doing?" He crawled backwards to Denzel's feet and grabbed his ankles. "Help me, Jesse."

Jesse's arms were as tired as Denzel's and not nearly as strong to begin with, so he wasn't much help, but together the two of them dragged Denzel backwards until his whole body rested on the skybridge. He turned his head to the side to rest his cheek on the wood and tried to breathe normally. He didn't want to move. Everything hurt. Tears slid down his face and he didn't know why. Sorrow? Relief? Fear? Pain? All of the above? In the end, it really didn't matter. It was a release of everything that was tearing him up on the inside.

"Come on, son," Jameson said, trying to slide his hands under Denzel's shoulders. More heavy boots started the bridge bouncing and Denzel screamed as his shoulder bounced against the wood. Jameson pulled out his hands and held them up. "I was just trying to help him up, I swear," he said defensively.

Denzel understood why a moment later as those familiar boots filled his vision. Cloud knelt down next to him and placed one very warm hand on his head. "Hey buddy," he said softly. "You ok?"

It reminded him of the day Cloud had first found him, collapsed outside the church in sector 5. Back then, he had been a little boy tortured with the pain of Geostigma. He had come so far in those five years – he was stronger, more experienced, more secure and confident, but Cloud's voice was still a soothing balm to a lost little boy.

"I was just going to help him get down the bridge," Jameson said again. "I just touched his shoulder and he screamed."

"Go down and get to the town hall," Cloud said, and Denzel wondered if Jameson could hear the edge in his voice. He decided that he must have, since Jameson shut his mouth and left without further argument. He led Jesse back up the steep slope, pulling themselves up with the help of the railing, and down the steps on the unbroken side.

"Can you…cure me?" Denzel asked faintly. "I don't have enough magic points left…"

"Not yet," Cloud said softly. "You need to sit up."

"Mm mm." Denzel moaned, too exhausted to shake his head.

"Yeah. Come on," he said, sliding one arm under Denzel's left side. He slid his other arm under the right side by his ribs, carefully avoiding his shoulder and lifting him up by his torso.

Denzel whimpered only a little bit as Cloud pulled them both up the slope of the damaged part of the bridge. When they reached the undamaged part, he let Denzel sit back down against the spindles. He squatted in front of him and gingerly lifted his wrist, putting his other hand just above Denzel's elbow.

Denzel tensed and cried out. "Don't, Cloud, please."

Cloud rotated it and pulled it forward slightly. Denzel yelled again and he stopped. "Ok, I'm sorry. I'm just looking," he murmured, eyes focused on Denzel's shoulder. "You want to tell me what happened?"

He was just holding his arm then, so Denzel let out his breath and relaxed a bit. "I was helping people get to the town hall. Then I—"

Cloud jerked his arm hard and there was another explosion of excruciating pain. Denzel howled mindlessly again, but this time it was quickly replaced by that cool, soothing sensation. He was still shaking and sweaty by the time the pain subsided, though. He glared angrily at Cloud, who gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. It goes back in easier if you're not expecting it."

He stood and held out his hand. "Come on, I'll take you back to the town hall," he said as he pulled Denzel to his feet.

With all of his pain completely gone, it was hard to hold on to his anger. "Where are you going?" Denzel asked.

"There are still some monsters lurking around town. I just need to run through and clean them up."

"Then I'm coming, too," Denzel said stubbornly.

Cloud looked at him doubtfully as they descended the steps of the skybridge. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

Denzel scoffed. "I'm fine. I'm healed, and I've only had one Ether today."

"Yeah, but after an adrenaline rush like that—"

"Cloud," Denzel said shortly. "Isn't all battle a constant adrenaline rush? I'll be _fine_."

Cloud tried not to smile, and failed. "You sound just like Tifa."

"Well, Tifa usually knows what she's talking about," Denzel said smugly.

It was hard for Cloud to argue that logic. "Alright. You just…stay here for a minute. I'll get your sword."

Denzel glanced over at the rubble under the skybridge. He had dropped his sword when he had grabbed onto the twins' hands, so it would be buried somewhere in that mess. The problem was, Jason's body would be somewhere in that rubble too. As strong as Denzel felt at that moment, the idea of seeing his mangled friend made him sick.

He sat down on a broken slab of concrete and distracted himself from what Cloud was doing by surveying the ruins of the square. He thought of the picture he'd drawn. He couldn't remember all the details, but it didn't seem quite right. The one thing he remembered clearly was the monument in the center of the square. It had been broken all the way down to the wall from sector one at the base. The monument he saw now was damaged, but it still had identifiable segments from several different sectors.

One other detail came back to him then: the bodies. He had seen bodies scattered all over the square, and there were none right now. His stomach rolled as he remembered the sleeve of the orange polo shirt that Jason was wearing that day. Jason was in that picture, but the others weren't. Did that mean that he had changed the vision? Maybe by coming there, by being forewarned by the picture, he had saved those people. He clung to that bit of hope, dampening the sour taste from remembering Jason's dismembered arm.

Cloud returned with his sword then. It looked like he had wiped it clean somewhere, because it was noticeably free of gore. Denzel grasped the handle, but Cloud didn't immediately let it go. Their eyes met above the sword - dark blue to mako blue, and Denzel could actually read the swirling emotions there: pride, fear, worry, and love. Then he closed them for a moment. When he opened them, they were back to liquid steel. He was back in commander mode.

"Are you ready for this?" Cloud asked.

Denzel tightened his grip on the handle. "I'm ready."

Cloud released it. "Then let's do it together."


	13. Chapter 13 - Our Normal

**Chapter 13 - Our Normal**

Denzel felt different. For better or worse, something had changed in him as Edge burned and crumbled. He was no stranger to death, of course – he had lost his parents, then Ruvie, and then almost died himself. He had seen friends and strangers succumb to Geostigma in dark alleys and sunny parks. But he was helpless then. He had no way to prevent any of those deaths. He was just a kid.

He wasn't helpless anymore. He was fifteen and lethally trained. He had helped dozens of strangers get to safety in the town hall. He had prevented Jesse from falling to his death.

If there were a scale to balance the number of lives, he would surely be tipping it to the 'saved' side. However, he was starting to understand all those lives didn't carry the same weight in his heart. The ones he'd failed – Mr. Mio and Jason – were far heavier than the ones he had rescued.

The rumbling grew louder as they ran out of the town square and hopped on Fenrir. The roar of hundreds or maybe even thousands of monsters had faded, but there were still random snarls and crashes coming from all directions. The sound of guns and cannons was loudest, and that was where they were headed. The echo of Fenrir's engine bounced off of the buildings along the road as they sped toward it.

Denzel's heart sank when he saw the giant, long-tailed beast still fighting. The WRO was throwing everything they had at it, but it was swatting away the projectiles like flies. Cloud made a beeline for the commander as soon as they skidded to a stop, but Denzel's eyes scanned the fighting soldiers, looking for one dark-haired, olive-skinned man. Niko had saved his life, and he didn't even know if he'd gotten away safely.

There were bodies scattered everywhere in the clearing. Some were clearly dead, but many seemed to be wounded, and the strange monster was thwarting efforts of the others to get to them. He finally spotted the crumpled figure of his former nemesis. Without thinking, Denzel sprinted toward him, using his sword as a shield against the flying debris. When he reached him, he was dangerously close to the stomping feet of the beast.

"Niko! Niko! Are you ok?" His eyes were closed and he had one arm wrapped tightly across his abdomen. Blood leaked between his fingers, adding to the puddle on the ground underneath him. Niko's eyes opened a crack, clearly pained but conscious.

"Denzel?" he said weakly.

"Yeah, it's me," he said, looking him up and down for injuries. Besides the wound Niko was covering on his stomach, his left leg was twisted at an odd angle. Denzel automatically put his hand out to cure him, but the weak swirling of the lifestream and the strain in his head reminded him that he hadn't yet taken an ether. He cursed under his breath.

The monster was doing a strange dance nearby, staying within a relatively small area, moving just enough to swat at the larger projectiles still flying toward him, completely ignoring the bullets. It seemed to be toying with them, taking very little damage but not making any effort to attack the soldiers standing at a safe distance.

"Denzel. You have to get out of here," Niko said urgently. "It's been attacking anyone it sees standing in range of its tail!"

It was at that very moment that the monster spotted him. A loud growl tore from its throat. It recognized the wielder of the sword that had covered it with burns in the town square. Denzel's heart squeezed in his chest.

"Denzel! Get away from it!" Cloud yelled a second before jumping up onto the monster's back and stabbing his giant sword between its shoulder blades. A burst of flame shot up from inside the wound as Cloud flipped himself off of its back.

The beast roared in pain and twirled around to see who had dared to come so close. Denzel threw himself to the ground next to Niko, narrowly dodging the whipping tail. As soon as it was safely past, he jumped back to his feet. He put his arms beneath the soldier's armpits and started dragging him slowly backwards.

"Kid," Niko coughed, clearly pained from the friction of the pavement against his wounds. "You shouldn't be so close. It'll get you, too."

Denzel gritted his teeth and continued dragging Niko. "Cloud has it distracted. We'll be fine. I'm getting you away from it."

Niko sounded like he was having trouble breathing. Denzel prayed that the WRO had medics standing by, because he didn't think Niko could make it to the town hall in his condition.

Cloud was in an intense one-on-one battle with the thing. Denzel watched in fascination as he continued pulling Niko back. Cloud was strong enough to get his sword through the thick skin, and he was using a slash-materia attack to great effect, jumping up, starting a fire in each new wound he made and then jumping away before it could retaliate. There was something wrong though. He stopped dragging Niko and squinted at the beast's skin. A white film was coating the open burning wounds, extinguishing the flames and sealing the flesh.

Denzel gritted his teeth. He didn't think Cloud knew, and he had to tell him before he wasted any more energy and magic on it. "Cloud!" Denzel yelled. "It's healing itself!"

He didn't even consider that Cloud wasn't the only one who would hear his yell. The beast spun around to face him, catching Cloud by surprise with his tail. The force of it flung Cloud into a nearby building. He crashed through the third story window and disappeared into a puff of dust.

Denzel dropped Niko and ran the other way. He couldn't defend them both, and he needed to keep its attention away from the wounded soldier. He ducked between two buildings. The space between them was narrow enough that the beast couldn't fit a clawed foot between them, but as he soon realized, it didn't need to. It swatted at the buildings, tearing through them and throwing a shower of wood and plaster down on him. Denzel could only protect his head with his hands, and then he was buried in a pile of rubble.

Cloud had fallen through the two floors of the building and was now on the main level. He tried the front door, but it was locked, so he simply made himself a new doorway with his blade. He pushed through the debris just in time to see a pile of building materials collapsing on Denzel.

"Hey!" he yelled at the beast, but now it was too focused on the boy that was only feet away and had caused him so much grief earlier that day. Without thinking, Cloud sent out a blast of fire with his hand. That got its attention. A pained screech rang across the open area. The beast turned and ran in the other direction, howling loudly.

Cloud ignored the pain tearing through his abdomen and made his way over to the pile of rubble, but he was slowing. Heat was radiating from his skin, and his entire torso was burning from the inside. He grabbed the side of one of the torn buildings to support himself while he pulled off large beams and chunks of wall with his free hand.

Denzel pushed through the rubble once the heaviest pieces were off, a little scratched and bruised but otherwise no worse for the wear. Cloud, on the other hand, was having trouble staying on his feet. Denzel put his hands on his shoulders to steady him, shocked by the heat pulsing from his body. He looked like he was about to pass out. Denzel ordered him to sit down and lean against the building. He obeyed meekly.

Denzel glanced around, spotting the commander of the WRO. "Stay here!" he told Cloud, who was clearly not going anywhere. He sprinted toward the commander. The soldiers were now retrieving the wounded and bringing them back to the trucks to be treated by the medics.

"Hey! Hey, are you in charge here?" he asked the commander. He had heard him yelling out orders to the soldiers and his uniform was different, so it seemed a safe bet.

"Yes, Denzel," he said in a surprisingly soft voice. "Thank you for your help out there. You saved a lot of my men."

Denzel was taken aback by his response. He didn't feel like he had done much of anything besides drag Niko ineffectively. "How—how do you know my name?" Out of all the things he could have asked, that question was the one that popped from his mouth.

The commander rubbed his short-cropped hair. "Cloud talks about you sometimes."

Hearing Cloud's name was a sharp slap to the head, reminding him why he was there. "Do you have ice? I need a lot of ice."

The commander looked over his shoulder doubtfully. "The medics have some, but I can't spare that much right now. There are a lot of wounded soldiers to treat."

"Whatever you can spare," Denzel said quickly. "Cloud needs it. Badly."

Cloud's name clearly commanded a lot of respect in the man. He nodded and hurried over to the medic trucks, returning with two twenty pound bags of ice. "Is this enough?"

"I think so. Thank you," Denzel said, grabbing the ice and running back to where Cloud was slouched against the building. His skin was very red by then, and the blue of his eyes was almost completely lost in it. Denzel dropped one bag and ripped open the other, pouring the ice carefully over Cloud's body. It was melting fast. He grabbed two handfuls and pressed them to Cloud's face.

They were gone within minutes, and Cloud wasn't any more responsive. Getting worried, Denzel tore open the other bag and repeated the process. He held back a little more this time for his face. He wasn't sure why, but it seemed important to keep his head cool. He didn't want him to fry his brain or something. He dropped a handful on top of his head. The mess of spikes seemed to keep them from sliding off his head, so he piled on some more before going back to Cloud's face.

When almost the entire bag was melted, Cloud finally started to show some life. He grabbed a handful from the tiny pile remaining and shoved it in his mouth.

"Cloud?" Denzel asked tentatively. "Are you ok? What happened?"

Cloud took a deep breath and sat up, blinking tiredly. "I'll be ok in a few minutes," he said, answering only the first question.

"What happened?" Denzel asked again. "Why does that keep happening?"

Cloud looked at him. It was eerie to have those reddish blue eyes focused on him. They were familiar, but at the same time, just _wrong_. "The materia inside of me is growing," he finally said. "Every time I use it, it gets stronger. I didn't realize until recently that it was getting _bigger_ too. It's burning me inside, but the mako heals my body so fast that it doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter?" Denzel blustered. "You sure looked like it mattered five minutes ago."

"Yeah." Cloud looked troubled, drawing up his knee and resting an arm on it. "After I use it, it burns hotter and stronger for a while. Too hot for the mako to keep up."

The nagging guilt pecked at Denzel again, like poking a bruise that refused to heal. "Cloud, I don't think you should use it anymore. Ever. What if it gets too strong for your body to heal?"

Cloud sighed wearily. "I know. I haven't been. I wasn't thinking when I used it earlier. I just reacted."

Denzel tried not to show how much that statement worried him. Cloud didn't do things like that when he was fighting. He never made emotion-driven mistakes. He anticipated, countered, and responded instantly to his opponent. Every action had a purpose.

"So how are we going to beat this thing? I saw this white frost covering over the places where you were hurting it. I think it's healing itself."

Cloud rubbed one gloved hand through his dripping hair. "We'll just have to hurt it faster than it can heal itself." He got to his feet and straightened.

The commander of the WRO army looked relieved to see him on his feet again. He saluted Cloud when he arrived. Cloud just looked amused, and the commander quickly dropped his hand. Denzel got the feeling he'd been told more than once not to salute him, but old habits die hard, he supposed.

"Are you alright, sir?" he asked, straightening his cap.

Cloud nodded. "I'm fine. Were you able to recover all your troops?"

The commander glanced grimly back at the medic trucks. "The ones who could be saved, yes. There were many who couldn't," he said sadly.

Denzel looked again, hurting for the families of the many white-wrapped bundles being loaded into the back of one of the trucks. He was sick of seeing death everywhere he looked, and suddenly he wasn't sure he wanted to fight anymore. Then his eyes drifted back to Cloud and he thought of all the people he'd saved, all those families who _wouldn't_ be mourning their loved ones. If he stopped fighting, he would only be hiding in ignorance. Those people would still die, and the ones he could have saved would die, too. It would be cowardly to stop fighting just so that he wouldn't have to see it.

"Did you see where it went?" Cloud asked the commander.

"Yes. I think it was headed back to the town square." He hesitated for a moment. "Do you need backup?"

Cloud shook his head. "Your weapons weren't even hurting it."

"I know," the commander said uneasily. "We were just trying to keep it distracted until you came."

"If you have enough healthy soldiers, send them out in a grid across town to clean up the remaining monsters. I—" He glanced over at Denzel, hesitated for a moment, and then nodded firmly. "Denzel and I will take care of that thing."

* * *

The town square seemed to be its home base. It had returned there to lick its wounds. As Denzel had suspected, it was almost entirely healed. They stopped Fenrir just outside of the square and squatted behind a fallen pillar to watch it. Cloud pulled ethers and potions from his supply belt, handing some to Denzel. They drank what they needed until they were ready for battle again.

"Alright," Cloud said finally. "We're clear here, so you can use firaga. Put up a magic barrier just in case. Stay hidden. Don't let it see you. If it's looking toward you, stop casting until it looks away again. Promise you won't run out into the open, no matter what happens?"

"Cloud?" Denzel said hesitantly.

"This space is too small and it seems to have some kind of grudge against you. Plus, it's scared and unpredictable after that last attack. You can _not_ let it see you." Cloud locked eyes with him. "Promise me, Denzel."

"Okay…I—I promise."

Cloud looked back at the beast. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," Denzel said with determination.

Cloud squeezed Denzel's shoulder once before darting out across the square. With a yell, he jumped up and buried Tsurugi's massive blade high in the monster's back. He ran down the monster's spine, creating a deep fissure with his sword. A line of fire flared up out of the crevice in his wake.

The beast roared and spun around before he reached the end, flinging Cloud from his back. Denzel gasped as he saw the black figure flying through the air, but Cloud gained control of his momentum in the air and flipped easily, landing on his feet. He crouched and sprang again.

Denzel began casting firaga from his hidden cove, enraptured as the battle unfolded. It was hard not to be lost in amazement, watching Cloud fight. He moved almost too fast to follow, every motion a seamless transition from the last, like a much-practiced dance. At first he worried about hitting him with the fire, but the concern was put to rest within minutes. He watched Cloud jump and slash and flip off again, over and over, starting little fires that sizzled and smoked inside of the monster. Denzel could see now that the firaga falling from the sky on his command were creating small burns on its skin that were quickly being healed, but it was keeping the beast off balance. It was a distraction, allowing Cloud the freedom to hit it from every angle.

They were making progress, he thought, but it was taking longer than any battle Denzel had ever seen. His foot was almost entirely pins and needles. He shifted to try to get a better angle, leaning his arm on the broken slab, but the rock was not as stable as it appeared. It tipped forward and hit the ground with a crash. The beam fell forward, completely exposing Denzel.

The crash was loud. Both Cloud and the monster looked at him – one pair of eyes widening, one narrowing. Denzel ran. He tried to stick to the perimeter of the square, but the destruction of the buildings and the broken ground had made it an obstacle course. He clambered over a thick slab of uprooted concrete, searching desperately for a place to hide. The monster was already lumbering toward him, swatting aside the debris in its path. Denzel knew he had to break its line of sight if he wanted to hide, but it had zeroed in on him with single-minded focus.

He pulled himself up over a fallen roof, taking one giant step over a treacherous hole. The roof held, but the shingle under his foot slipped free. His knee hit the rough surface and he threw his arms out, searching frantically for something to keep him from backsliding. His fingers slid uselessly over the roof and his leg shot through the hole. He had fallen through to his hip before the jagged boards snagged on his pants. The pain of the deep scrapes up his leg barely even registered with the monster breathing down his neck.

He started to panic and pulled frantically at his leg, but the shards just dug deeper into his flesh. He watched the monster raise one deadly claw above his head. Time seemed to slow as the claw began its descent. He looked over at Cloud. A wordless yell was coming from his mouth as he jumped at the monster and landed on its back, but he didn't use his sword. It looked like he was hugging the monster's neck, and then his whole body burst into flames.

The fire spread from there to cover the beast's head and body. It roared and stumbled back. The flames covering Cloud subsided immediately and he jumped off, but it wasn't his usual graceful flip. He disappeared behind a pile of debris in the square.

The giant fireball of a beast rolled around the square, smothering some of the external fire. Smoke poured from a dozen cuts, from its mouth and nose and eyes. Frost was extending in a huge circle around its body, dampening the wood of the surrounding buildings, but not quite managing to extinguish the fire burning it inside and out.

"Cloud!" Denzel yelled across the square. "CLOUD!" He wasn't answering, and Denzel had lost sight of him behind the devastation left behind by the beast. Denzel yanked against his leg, but every time he tried to pull, the wood dug deeper. Screaming in frustration, he pulled out Skoll. Using the hilt, he hammered against the wood until he broke off enough of the pieces to widen the hole. He got his other foot underneath him and pushed.

His leg came out with a lurch, scraping against the jagged shards of wood he hadn't managed to dislodge. The square had quieted by then. The beast had stopped rolling around and was now nothing more than a charred, twitching blob.

Denzel's leg was badly gouged and streaming blood. His first instinct was to run to Cloud, but he cried out and fell to one knee when he tried to put his weight on the damaged leg. Impatiently, he stopped and focused on a cure. The cool tingling had just barely started when the lifestream began fighting against his weak push. He was out of magic points, but he'd had enough to get the deepest gashes and slow the worst of the bleeding. He snatched up his sword and limped as quickly as he could to the place where he'd last seen Cloud.

He finally reached the pile of bricks and bent metal blocking his view. Cloud was on the ground on his hands and knees, panting, but still awake. Denzel knelt in front of him, holding onto his arms and pushing him into a sitting position. They were burning hot, but Denzel refused to let go.

"Cloud! I told you not to use that materia!" He was so angry that he wanted to shake his mentor until his teeth rattled.

Cloud's breath scraped harshly against his raw throat. "It was the only way…to keep it…from you."

Denzel didn't understand the anger coursing through him. It should have been concern or fear, but it wasn't. He was just mad. "It wasn't the only way! You could have gotten its attention somehow…" He couldn't think of anything in particular at the moment, but the point was that Cloud should have. He always knew what to do. How could he have done something so stupid and impulsive?

Cloud didn't even seem to hear him. He slumped forward and Denzel pushed him back up. Getting angry wasn't helping. _Anger clouds your mind…_ "Yes, Cloud, I remember," he muttered to the voice in his head. He swallowed it back and forced himself to focus on solutions. "Can't you cure yourself?" Smoke was all around him, and Denzel coughed and waved his hand in front of his face.

Cloud just shook his head. Denzel didn't know if that meant he couldn't or hadn't or what he'd even tried, but it seemed to be too much effort for Cloud to talk. Denzel let go of one arm and started digging through Cloud's supply belt. He pulled out everything, spilling bottles across the ground. He searched through them frantically. His eyes were tearing up from the smoke, making it hard to see, but he squinted and ran his fingers over each of the bottles, feeling for the distinct shape of the ether bottle. He finally found it, pulled the cork with his teeth, and downed it.

As soon as he felt the clearing sensation in his head, he started casting cure on Cloud, opening the stream wider than he ever had before. The soothing magic was pouring into him, but it was making little difference. The smoke thinned out a bit, but Denzel couldn't keep the stream open indefinitely, not the way Marlene could. As soon as he stopped, the smoke thickened again, and Cloud folded over on himself.

Denzel caught his arms and pushed him into a sitting position again. He started another stream of cure, but Cloud stopped him. "It's not working," he rasped, puffing out a solid stream of smoke.

"But—there has to be something! We just have to stop the burning!"

With a shaking hand, Cloud reached over to his left arm and untied his ribbon. He held it out to Denzel.

"No," Denzel shook his head, eyes wide. "No, Cloud, you need that."

Cloud grimaced against the surge of pain that shot through him. "It's over, Denzel. It's grown too much." He gasped and dropped the ribbon, arms automatically going to his abdomen.

Denzel blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that threatened to overflow. "Cloud, stop this! You're not…you'll be ok. We still have time! We can figure it out!"

Cloud said nothing, just shook his head. His face was contorted in pain. Denzel was the only thing keeping him upright anymore.

Denzel released his arms and slowly picked up the ribbon. Cloud slid down to the ground on his side. Denzel bit his lip and tied on the ribbon. When he looked up, Cloud's eyes had drifted closed.

"Hey!" Denzel yelled, grabbing his arm frantically.

Cloud fought against the weight of his eyelids. He reached out to grip Denzel's wrist weakly. A slurpy, sloshing sound behind him indicated an impending battle at the worst possible time.

"Just hang in there a little longer," Denzel begged. He glanced over his shoulder at the marlboro approaching, moving its sticky tentacles along the ground. "Let me take care of this, and then we'll get you to Tifa. She'll know what to do. Just stay right there!"

Denzel pulled his wrist out of Cloud's burning hand, and it flopped limply onto the ground. He spun around and jumped to his feet, whipping out his sword. This marlboro was going to pay. Denzel screamed and swung his sword as hard as he could. The form was as natural to him as breathing now. The plant-beast roared in pain. _Water. They're weak to water._ Denzel quickly pulled the lifestream to him, thrusting his arm at the monster, drenching him with water. The marlboro squealed even louder. Then it opened its mouth.

"No!" Denzel yelled, knowing exactly what that meant. He swung frantically, but he couldn't stop it. The marlboro let out a huge belch of bad breath at the same time Denzel's sword sliced across its face. It screeched again and Denzel braced himself for the plethora of status changes, but it felt different this time. The ribbon tingled on his arm, and he found himself totally unaffected. He laughed out loud, a high pitched, panicky laugh. _The ribbon. Cloud's ribbon…Cloud!_

Denzel spun around, but Cloud was gone. A haze of smoke drifted, clearing in the slight breeze. "What? No! Where did he—" His eyes landed on a small frog lying where Cloud used to be. He screamed in rage, turning back to the marlboro. He pulled the lifestream back again, spraying a nonstop river of water magic on the beast. It screeched and writhed. Denzel doused it with water until it finally stopped screeching and slumped down to the ground.

With the marlboro silenced, he sheathed his sword and ran back to the frog. He picked up the tiny amphibian, gangly green legs splayed across his fingers. It was slightly warm still, but rapidly cooling. He refused to think about what that meant.

He fell to his knees with the frog in his hand and stroked its scaly green head. He could still fix this. Digging through his memory of status ailments, he finally remembered what he needed.

Gently setting down the cold frog, he crawled over to the supplies still rolling around on the ground. He sifted through the bottles and containers quickly, shoving away the useless medicines as he came across them. Finally, he found a maiden's kiss and pressed it against the rubbery amphibian skin. The frog grew and morphed until it was a full-sized Cloud shape.

Denzel crawled back up to Cloud's head and picked up one limp hand. The smoke had stopped pouring out of him, so the fire must have burned out. Desperately, he cast cure, but nothing happened. His hero's body lay slack and motionless. Deep inside, he had already known it wouldn't work. Cloud's skin was like ice. He was too late.

It was so unfair! No matter what Cloud had said about guilt, no matter how many times he told him not to let it tear him apart, he could never forgive himself. Cloud had saved him in so many ways, and how had he repaid him? By hiding a stupid, careless mistake and killing him slowly. He should have just admitted it when he broke the materia slot. He would have gotten in trouble, but who cares? He would have done chores for the rest of his life if he had to. Denzel felt like his soul was being crushed. Was this how Cloud had felt about Zack? About Aerith? How did he ever go on with his life?

He rested his head on Cloud's cold stomach and let the softness of his shirt absorb the tears. He knew he had to tell Tifa and Marlene. He couldn't carry his body back himself, but he couldn't bear to leave him. The ground was shaking with the force of the attack, but it wasn't Denzel's problem. The city would have to deal with their own problems for once. Actually, it wouldn't be for once, would it? The city would have to deal with their own problems forever, without Cloud there to fix everything for them.

The thought stabbed him like a knife. Cloud wasn't going to be there. Ever. Not for school plays or graduations or weddings. Not to train with his sword. Not to tease Tifa or eat the last of the meat or disapprove of Denzel's music. Fenrir would sit in the garage and slowly collect dust, and then rust. His clothes would have to be packed up and stuck in the attic, forever to smell like mothballs. His weapons would be given away or discarded, because Denzel certainly didn't deserve to have them. For some reason, the practicalities hit him the hardest. He'd never had to do that for his parents or for Ruvie. When they were gone, so was everything else. He just walked away. It was never _easy_ , but at least it was easier to move on without those constant reminders of the way things used to be. That wouldn't happen this time. Everything would stay the same, except for that one, glaringly absent piece.

The ground shook harder, and it only made him angrier. He just wanted these last few minutes with Cloud and the planet couldn't even leave him alone for that. He put his hands on the asphalt to brace himself, and that's when he realized that the ground wasn't shaking. Denzel sat up. _Cloud_ was shaking. Was it some kind of post-mortem convulsion? He grabbed Cloud's arm, trying to steady him. It seemed wrong, like the ultimate indignity for someone who should never, ever be disrespected. And then he noticed the tiny blisters popping up across his face. He'd been hit with poison, too. A loud sob escaped Denzel. It was likely a waste of supplies, but he couldn't bear to leave Cloud like that.

He crawled over to the bottles, most of which had scattered and rolled under various debris. It was hard enough to find the right medicine through tear-blurred vision, but when he heard the squelch of a flan, he lost any composure he had left.

He screamed and pulled out Skoll, running at the stupid amorphous blob. His foot landed on a strange-shaped green rock and started skidding, dropping him down on his scraped knee again. If there was ever a time for cathartic monster attacking, he needed it now. He lunged to his feet and hacked and slashed the rubbery monster, doing very little damage, but burning with white hot rage. Eventually his voice grew hoarse from screaming. His arms tired from swinging, and the flan still wasn't dead. He lifted his sword and blasted the stupid blob apart with thundaga.

The goo splattered everything in the square. Denzel didn't care. His shoulders heaved with his breathing. He lowered his head, seeing the little bottle of remedy the flan had dropped. _A gift from the planet? Too little, too late,_ he thought bitterly. _S_ till, it was what he needed. He bent down and picked up the bottle from the puddle of slime. Carrying it to Cloud's still form like an offering, he knelt down next to him and poured it gently over his face, hoping it would still work to get rid of the poison bumps.

Cloud flinched at the cold liquid and rolled onto his side, curling his body in on itself. He opened his eyes, and sky blue without a trace of red peered up at Denzel. "Gaia, did I get frogged?"

Denzel was in shock. He felt numb. He couldn't speak, so he nodded dumbly.

Cloud sat up and huddled against the shivering. "Gods, it's been so long since I've been frogged. It takes forever to get warm." He looked at Denzel's shocked face. "They're cold-blooded, you know," he explained matter-of-factly.

Denzel gaped at him. "But you…I mean…other than cold…how do you feel?"

"Ugh," he groaned. "Like I've been hit with frog and poison and sleep all at the same time. Cloud stood up and reached out his arms, but he froze mid-stretch, taking in the destruction of the square around him. The memories came rushing back and he frowned, lowering a hand to his stomach. "I feel fine. And…different. Denz, I…I think it's gone!"

Denzel suddenly remembered the strange rock he had tripped over. He glanced around him, but there was so much debris covering the square that he didn't have much hope of finding it anymore. Then Cloud did something unexpected. He laughed. And then he laughed harder. Several minutes later, Denzel was starting to wonder if he had come back from the dead without his sanity.

"Why are you _laughing_?" he finally asked.

"Oh…gods…oh, Denzel. It was the frogging!" He laughed again, shaking his head.

"Will you please stop laughing and explain this to me?" Denzel demanded. His emotions were still pretty raw and he thought he might lose his mind if Cloud laughed again.

Thankfully, Cloud managed to smother it. "Sorry, Denz. It's just…I hate getting frogged. Your stomach shrinks with the rest of you, you know, so if you've eaten anything recently it gets shoved out and splatters all over the ground. Everyone else has to step around it for the rest of the fight and then when they bring you back, you're cold and hungry and there's always another battle waiting. I hated it so much." He tugged gently at the ribbon still tied around Denzel's arm. "I've hardly taken that ribbon off since I first found it."

Denzel blinked and started to untie the ribbon, but Cloud stopped him. "Keep it."

"But…what if you get incapacitated?" Denzel asked, remembering their conversation on the mountain.

Cloud looked thoughtful for a moment, then dug through his supply belt and he pulled out a ring. "I got this for you, actually, but I think the ribbon suits you." He slid the ring on his own finger. "Peace ring, so I won't attack you. If anything else happens, you'll take care of me. Right?"

Denzel nodded slowly. "I would but…I don't like that feeling. I'd feel better if you had the ribbon." He untied it and held it out to Cloud, who smiled softly and swapped him for the ring. He appreciated Cloud's faith in him, but they both knew that Cloud would always be the protector. The planet had chosen his path for him when his abilities were forced upon him. That was his role, regardless of what he wanted.

Denzel twisted the ring around his finger. Peace ring. It sounded nice. He was glad that he'd learned how to fight, but peace sounded really good, too.

He was startled by the sound of Fenrir starting up. His head whipped around to see Cloud back in the seat of his beloved bike.

"Where are you going?" Denzel asked.

"Get on," Cloud said with a determined look on his face. "We're not done cleaning up this town."

Denzel grinned and hopped on. Peace could start tomorrow.

* * *

The cemetery was peaceful. Denzel stood and looked down at the hastily scribbled marker for Jason Keenan. There would be nice headstones and memorials made later, but for the time being, the city was overwhelmed with cleaning up the dead.

A shadow fell over the marker. "He never got a chance to tell you he was sorry," a soft voice murmured.

Denzel looked at the boy standing next to him. "What did he have to be sorry for?"

Jesse shrugged sadly. "Nothing, really. It was my fault more than his, but he always tried to take the blame for my actions."

Denzel's eyes shifted back down to the barren patch of ground. "Then what do _you_ have to be sorry for?"

"For blaming you. For blaming Cloud. I didn't want to admit the truth, but Jason always knew." Jesse pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Denzel.

Denzel glanced over at him curiously, but Jesse had his hands tucked in his pockets, staring off into the distance. Denzel carefully unfolded the note. It was a drawing on regular lined school paper. It was cartoonish, drawn by an unskilled hand, but it was easy enough to identify by the absurdly long tail and full coverage of spikes. It was the giant monster they had fought in the town square. The word 'Fluffy' was scribbled underneath. "I don't understand," he said, looking back at Jesse. Why would he give that to him?

"Jason drew it," he said absently.

Denzel suddenly felt ice rushing through his veins, because Jason should never have had the chance to draw it. He refolded the note, trying to sound normal. "When did he do that?"

"That morning." There was no need to ask which morning. Denzel tried to hand it back, but Jesse shook his head. "You'll probably want to show it to Cloud. I'm guessing he knows something about what's happening here, doesn't he?"

Denzel stuck the paper in his back pocket, dreading going into this blame game again. "He has his suspicions," Denzel said quietly. But Jesse had nothing to add. After a moment, Denzel decided to ask what was on his mind. "Where did Jason see that thing?" Even Cloud hadn't known what it was, and it would have been pretty hard for him to miss something that big with the amount of traveling he did.

"In his head," was Jesse's response. He finally met Denzel's gaze. "He kept trying to tell us that he was causing all those monsters to show up in town. Dad and I tried to convince him he was crazy. Dad said that it had to be 'that mako-juiced psychopath', Cloud." He smiled apologetically. "I guess we wanted to believe it so badly because the alternative…"

People were starting to congregate around the other grave markers, so Denzel nodded his head toward a path, indicating that they should walk. Jesse nodded and fell into step beside him.

"At first, it was just a bunch of monsters that we'd never even seen before," Jesse continued. "But when Dad went to the town meeting, Cloud said he recognized all of them. He said they were from all over the planet. For Dad and me, that was enough proof that Jason couldn't be causing it. He'd never even seen most of those monsters. But Jason was still convinced."

Jesse angrily kicked a rock on the path into a puddle of water. "Then he started telling us about these creatures that he was finding around town. They were ones he'd only dreamed up. He brought a couple home and they seemed pretty harmless. One was just this funky looking blob that sat in the palm of his hand. It had an eye right on the top of its head, but it didn't seem to be able to move or anything. Dad made him put it outside, so Jason stuck it under the front steps."

They were far enough from the newer markers now, in an older part of the cemetery that clearly had few visitors. He stopped and picked absently at the weathered stone of a soul long gone. "We went under there a few weeks later and found it still sitting in the same spot. It was dead, of course. It had no way of moving or eating or anything, so it couldn't survive. Jason got really adamant after that. He said it was proof that it was created out of his head."

Jesse dragged his eyes back to the worn path. "Dad and I just tried harder to convince him that it was a ridiculous idea. We tried harder to convince ourselves that it was Cloud's fault. Maybe if we would have believed him, he wouldn't have drawn that picture." He wrapped his arms around himself, looking for comfort or warmth. "He was so desperate to prove it to us. He came up with this silly idea of a beast, big enough that we couldn't miss it, with a tail longer than its body."

He started walking again, so Denzel followed. "He wasn't that good at drawing, but he always had this insanely vivid imagination, you know? I guess it looked a little different in his head than on paper."

Denzel had to agree. The monster on the paper was cartoonish and silly, but the beast that had come to life was anything but.

"When we heard the rumbling sound, Jason said we had to track it down. He needed us to believe him. If we had believed in him from the start, we could have spent that time figuring out how to stop it from happening instead of trying to convince him someone else was to blame." The look on Jesse's face resounded eerily with Denzel. It seemed that everyone was struggling with their guilt.

Denzel's mouth was dry. "I don't blame you," he finally said. "It sounds crazy. Of course it was hard for you to believe."

They had reached the edge of the bluff that created the natural border of the cemetery. Jesse stopped and turned to face him. His eyes were pained. "But he was my _brother_. I should have believed him." His shoulders slumped. "I guess it's my turn to deal with the consequences of both of our actions."

Denzel didn't know what to say. He wanted to say something comforting. He honestly didn't blame Jason or Jesse; Cloud's little family had understood what was causing it, and even _they_ didn't figure out a way to stop it.

They stood there in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, their own mistakes, their own guilt. Denzel was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but he needed to know for sure that it was over. "Did…did Jason have Geostigma?" he asked tentatively.

Jesse didn't answer right away. Denzel was about to drop it when he finally spoke. "Yeah. I think he was always too good for this planet. It tried to take him away back then. I used to pray every night for it to go away. I swore I would be a better brother if he would just be healed. And then this miracle happened. It just…it _rained_ , and then the Stigma was just gone. We never found out why or how, but later we learned that it disappeared from everywhere."

Denzel just nodded. It didn't matter anymore.

"Sometimes I feel like I went back on my promise, and that's why Jason died five years later anyway. I never was a very good brother to him."

"No!" Denzel grabbed Jesse's arm and forced him to face him. "No. That's not true."

Jesse snorted derisively. "How would you know? You don't know how I treated him when we were at home. We fought over such stupid little things, like who got the nicer blanket or whose turn it was to take out the trash. I did all kinds of rotten things and then let him take the blame for them." Tears started to well up in his eyes and he swiped at them angrily.

"I know because…I could see how much he loved you. Otherwise he wouldn't have done what he did to save you."

Jesse laughed through his tears. "Yeah he would've. Jason was like that." He turned back to the bluff and stared out over the wasteland below. "Besides, he couldn't stand the idea that it might happen again. He couldn't deal with the thought that he was responsible for killing those 19 people in the first attack. How would he deal with the 307 that died this time?"

He shook his head sadly. "No, it's better that he never found out. He had these dreams where he saw all those monsters. At first it was just a few, and he just saw them wandering around in the ruins. He told me about the dreams at the time, but nothing ever happened, so we thought they were just dreams. Then one night he dreamed of a big mob of them attacking the town. The next morning, there they were."

Denzel dug his hands into his pockets and watched a couple of young cubs running through the valley below. They looked so harmless, just running freely, nipping at each other playfully. "Did you see them that time?"

"Naw," Jesse said. "We didn't even know about them until Dad went to the town meeting. He came back steaming mad, saying how they were all giving Cloud credit for cleaning up. Me and Jason looked at each other because we knew about the dream, but we didn't tell Dad then. I mean, we didn't even know what the monsters looked like. It could've been something completely different."

Denzel nodded in understanding. He knew that feeling – coincidences that he couldn't be sure were related to his drawings, wondering if he was crazy, wishing he could talk to someone about it. At least Jason had his brother.

"The next time it happened, Cloud was out of town." Jesse laughed dryly. "And then Dad was furious that Cloud wasn't there to _do his job_."

Denzel tried not to get angry. Jesse was just relaying the message, after all. Instead of saying what he really wanted to say, he kept his voice light and asked, "Why does he hate Cloud so much?"

"Isn't it always about a girl?" Jesse asked, looking over with a smirk. "He was with Tifa before Cloud came along." Denzel could hear the bitterness carried through the tone of the son. "It was after Mom died. He was having a hard time with it and Tifa was 'comforting' him, I guess. Then Cloud showed up in Midgar and told Tifa a bunch of lies about Dad and then he stole her away."

Denzel looked at him skeptically. It sounded incredibly one-sided. As far as he knew, Cloud and Tifa didn't get together until near the end of their journey, but he had never really wanted to know the details.

"Jesse!" Jameson's voice echoed over the hill. "Jesse?"

"I'm over here, Dad," Jesse called back.

Jameson came jogging over the hill, breathing heavily. "Jesse, it's time to—" His eyes flickered to his son's companion. "Hello, Denzel," he said quietly. At least it didn't sound bitter on his tongue this time. "Come on Jesse, let's go."

Jameson turned to walk away, but stopped when he realized Jesse wasn't following. He turned back to look at the last remaining member of his family. Jesse raised his eyebrows, as if his father was missing something obvious.

Jameson pressed his lips together and looked back at Denzel. "I don't—blame you. You or Cloud." He turned and started to walk away, not checking back for Jesse this time. Jesse gave Denzel an exasperated half-smile. That was probably the closest thing to an apology Denzel would ever get.

"Thank you," Denzel called after him impulsively. Jameson didn't turn around, but he stopped. "For pulling me back on the bridge."

The big man looked like he was shaking. He nodded once before walking away.

* * *

"Cloud, can we go somewhere?" Denzel asked. "To talk?"

Cloud looked up from the mail he'd been going through at one of the bar tables. It seemed absurd to be doing something so mundane after all the excitement, but bills had to be paid. "Uh, sure. Want to go up to your room, or…?"

"No, I mean somewhere away from here. Away from Midgar." Denzel missed the smell and softness of the grass from their trip. He was tired of the constant sounds of hammers and saws and people.

Cloud studied him thoughtfully. "Just for a few hours?"

"Yeah," Denzel confirmed. "Just us." Marlene was off somewhere with Lexi, but he had this paranoia that she would still find a way to eavesdrop if they talked there.

"Ok." Cloud stood and went to tell Tifa.

They drove out to a place with rolling hills and grass as far as the eye could see, as if Cloud had known exactly what he needed. Or maybe it was something Cloud needed himself. He had always hated the bustle of the city.

Cloud pushed down the kickstand of the bike with his heel while Denzel climbed off. He swung his leg over the side, but he stayed perched on the seat. Denzel wandered around, running his fingers over the rough bark of the trees and inhaling the smells of nature. He could definitely get used to this.

He picked up a fallen stick from the ground. It was newly broken, still green inside and flexible. He flexed it back and forth, marveling at the beauty of nature away from the toxic spread of mako energy. Cloud was still waiting patiently for him to speak, but Denzel didn't know where to start. Finally, he started with the part that had been bugging him since his talk with Jesse.

"What happened between Tifa and Jameson?"

To his surprise, Cloud laughed. "Nothing happened. They were friends growing up. When we got older, he had a crush on her, but so did all the guys back home. Tifa just wasn't interested. She was deeply involved with AVALANCHE and didn't have time for 'frivolous things like relationships'." He grinned at Denzel's skeptical look. "Those were her words, I swear."

"But she had time for you?" Denzel asked.

"Heh. No. She wasn't interested in a relationship with me, either." Cloud stood and walked slowly over to a huge tree, leaning against the trunk. "But you know how Tifa is. She needs to fix people, and I was the most broken person she'd ever met. I didn't know it at the time, but she did. She kept me close because she was worried about me."

He grinned and looked back at Denzel. "Of course I might have been a little possessive when he came to see her, but it was pretty obvious that she wasn't into him. I grilled her about him once after he left the bar." He winced. "You want a word of advice, Denz? Don't ever act like a jealous meathead around a woman like Tifa. She was _not_ impressed." Cloud shrugged. "I guess he didn't take it very well when we left Midgar to rescue Aerith and then chase Sephiroth, but I think he just always imagined they were closer than they were. She didn't even tell him she was leaving."

Denzel smiled, feeling much more at ease. He'd been told that Cloud was different back when he first came to Midgar, although no one had ever explained exactly what that meant. He still couldn't imagine he'd ever been the type of person that Jameson seemed to think he was. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded paper. "Jason drew this, the morning before he…died."

Cloud looked curious as he unfolded it. He stared at the picture, confused at first, but then understanding came into his eyes. "So he was the one," he said softly.

Denzel bent the stick a little too far and it splintered in his hands. "You knew one of the kids with Geostigma was making it happen?" he asked. He couldn't help feeling a little betrayed that he hadn't let them in on that little secret, even though they'd gotten so many things out in the open during their talk.

Cloud carefully folded the paper back up. "I suspected. I knew someone had to be summoning them because they were showing up inside of the walls, and I didn't think anyone would do it on purpose. I didn't realize he could create them out of his head, though. That's…powerful."

Denzel nodded in awe. "So I guess everyone's abilities aren't helpful like mine and Lexi's."

"No," Cloud said, frowning at nothing as he stared off into the distance. "I'm sure there are some more dangerous ones out there."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Denzel asked eagerly. "Can you find out everyone that was there at the pond?"

Cloud seemed annoyed. "Me? There's nothing I can do. No one was ever able to find a cure for the Stigma, and back then, _everyone_ was desperate to find one. Even if we figured out who these kids were, what would we do about it?"

Denzel felt the anger flaring up again. He jumped to his feet and stormed toward Cloud. "Who else is gonna fix this if you don't? I mean, you're the one who started everything! You put Sephiroth in the lifestream and—"

" _Don't_ go there," Cloud said tightly, his jaw clenching. "Fight her."

The light flickered in the depth of his eyes, and Denzel saw it then – the anger. It was there, like anyone else, but Cloud kept it on a very tight leash. Now that the red was gone, now that he was no longer being burned from the inside out, it was carefully controlled again. The Cloud that had stormed off into the woods, or the one that had terrified him in the cabin, or even the one who had panicked and made a foolish mistake during the fight with Fluffy, wouldn't be seen again.

Denzel clenched his hands into fists, letting his fingernails dig into his palms. Little by little, it released him. He didn't understand why, but it was always hardest to control his anger around Cloud. He didn't even realize he had voiced it out loud until Cloud answered him.

"I think she's still trying to get under my skin." He turned away and lowered his head. "Once upon a time…I was her favorite puppet. I did things that…" He couldn't seem to finish his sentence.

Denzel stood looking at his back, speechless. He never knew, but it made sense. It explained why he seemed to know so much about her and the way she worked. What would happen if Jenova controlled someone as powerful as Cloud? As scary as that thought was, it gave him hope. He took a few steps toward him. "How did you get rid of her?"

Cloud was motionless except for the wind that tugged at his clothes and mussed his hair. His tone was flat. "I didn't. She's still there. I just got better at resisting her."

"Oh." Denzel dug the toe of his sneaker in the dirt. "Is that how you always know when she's…controlling me?"

Cloud turned around and gave him a hard look. "She's _not_ controlling you, Denzel. She's influencing you. There's a big difference." His voice softened then. "And I know because I can see it in your eyes."

Denzel closed his eyes, as if he could see her right then. "Will you help me?" he asked timidly. "If I can't get rid of her, will you help me resist her? I don't like feeling this way."

Cloud sighed, and Denzel felt a warm hand on his shoulder. "I'll try, but you're the one who has to do it. I can't fight this battle for you."

He opened his eyes. He was sorry that he'd lost his temper and blamed him, but he still felt that Cloud had some responsibility to help. "But…there's still kids out there who are scared and confused and don't understand how to control the strange things that keep happening to them. "

Cloud pushed his hands through his hair. "Look, I'll explain to the council what I know. If they want to do something about it, they can. I just want to stay out of it."

Slowly, Denzel nodded. "I understand." If there was one lesson to be learned out of all of this, it should have been that Cloud was _human_. His senses were enhanced, yes, and he was stronger and faster than most, but he just wanted to be a normal person and live his own life. He didn't want to be responsible for the rest of the planet, or even the rest of the city.

Cloud sat down with his back against the tree. He leaned back his head and closed his eyes. Denzel stretched out on the grass next to him and put his hands behind his head. It was strange. He saw Cloud so differently now. He wasn't unbreakable. He wasn't infallible. He made mistakes. But he was still unlike anyone in the world. He was still his hero.

Without opening his eyes, Cloud muttered. "Quit staring at me. You're creeping me out."

Denzel laughed just as Cloud's phone rang. One blue eye opened a crack to peek over at him. "You wanna get that? I'm comfortable."

"Sure," Denzel said, getting to his feet. The phone was still attached to its clip on Fenrir. By the time he pressed the button to answer, it was finishing the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Denzel," Tifa said, sounding puzzled. "Why are you answering Cloud's phone?"

Denzel glanced over at the tree. "Eh, he's just being lazy."

"Relaxing!" Cloud said loudly.

Tifa heard, and laughed. "I'm just wondering when you boys will be home. I was thinking about grilling behemoth burgers tonight."

"Excellent!" Denzel said. "Don't worry, we'll be there. How long do we have?"

"It's still early," Tifa said. "You can stay out for a couple more hours."

"Gotcha," Denzel said. "See you then!"

"Bye, Denzel," Tifa said with a smile in her voice.

Denzel put the phone back on the hook and resumed his place on the ground next to Cloud. He crossed his legs and leaned back on his arms. "Tifa's grilling behemoth tonight," he announced.

"Mm hmm," Cloud said drowsily. Of course he'd heard the whole conversation.

Denzel laid back and stared up at the sky. The grass tickled the back of his neck. "Do you think…" he started.

"What is it?" Cloud asked, lifting his head to look over at him.

"Well, since Jason's gone now…do you think things will go back to normal?"

Cloud leaned his head back on the tree. "Denzel, I don't even know what normal is anymore. But there shouldn't be any more attacks on the town." He paused and studiously avoided looking at the teen. "Is normal what you want?" There was a hint of anxiety in the question that was hard to interpret.

Denzel chewed on a blade of grass while he thought about how to define _normal_. He thought of his parents – his dad going to work in an office, his mother running around, always keeping up appearances. Obviously, he couldn't have them back. But did he want to live with people _like_ them? If he suddenly found a "normal" couple to adopt him, would he want to go? Maybe that's what Cloud was asking.

He let the grass drift from his fingers and struggled to articulate what he wanted to say. "Not other people's normal. I don't want us to be like other families. Just… _our_ normal."

Cloud smiled faintly. "Our normal," he repeated. "Whatever that means."

* * *

Jesse wiped the sweat from his head with the back of his work glove, more successful in smearing mud than drying it. The sun beat down on the wreckage of the town square, making the workers hot and cranky. The noise of the cranes and machinery in the background made it nearly impossible to talk to anyone, but he didn't mind. Jesse spent more time thinking these days, less talking.

Of course, his constant companion since the day he was born was no longer by his side, and he was beginning to realize that not everyone wanted to hear every thought that popped into his head. Jason was the perfect sidekick, laughing at his jokes and agreeing with every opinion he voiced. Without that validation, he paid more attention to other people's reactions, and they really weren't good. The goodwill sympathy he'd been given after losing his brother would only go so far, and he learned something that bothered him greatly: people really didn't like him.

He leaned on his shovel and shook off one of the gloves. A young girl was walking around handing out water bottles, and he took one from her. In return, he gave her a small smile and a quiet 'thank you.' She probably didn't hear it, but she could read his lips. The response was dramatic. A grin lit up her face, revealing a missing front tooth. She skipped on to the next person. It was funny, he realized. She was a cute little kid, which was something he never would have noticed before. He wouldn't have given her more than a passing glance as he snatched the water she offered. He wouldn't have cared what she thought or felt. Now he watched as she shyly approached the workers with her bottles of water. Everyone was wrapped up in their own tasks, and with all the noise in the background, it was difficult for her to get their attention without being accidentally elbowed or stepped on.

Jesse tipped back his water and let the cool bliss trickle down his throat. He never knew water could taste so amazing, but then again, he'd never worked himself so hard. It was something else new to him. He had never done something he didn't _have_ to do, and his father always acted like physical labor was beneath him, an attitude that Jesse had adopted. But it seemed right that he would help clean up the town square. Most of the people in town would never know his or Jason's role in the catastrophes; as far as they were concerned, he was just another volunteer.

He finished his water and tucked the bottle into his backpack to dispose of later. Putting his hand back into the hot, dirty glove didn't feel good, but it was time to get back to it. He stabbed his shovel into the pile of debris and lifted a huge load of shingles and burned wood. He looked up to toss it into the nearby wheelbarrow, and the little girl caught his attention again. A large man had stepped backwards and tripped on her. It looked like he was scolding her for being in the way. He threw a few coarse words at her and went back to work like it had never happened, but the shamed look on her face didn't immediately fade. Her shoulders slumped, and she set a bottle of water next to the man's toolbox before slinking away. It made Jesse angry. He was angry about the way the man had reacted, mostly because it reminded him of his own callousness in the past. How many times had he made someone else feel like that and then went about his business like it never happened?

He sighed and tossed the load from his shovel into the wheelbarrow. This self-reflection was really hard for him. As he drove the shovel into the mess again, something twinkling caught his eye. He walked closer and dug it out. It was a strange green stone, just barely translucent. It looked similar to the orbs he'd once seen Denzel carrying, except that it was much bigger and not perfectly rounded. It looked more like a circle and a rectangle had been mashed together, connected at the edge.

It was something Jason would have liked to see. He was interested in stones and collected pretty much anything natural and colorful. Jesse thought about bringing it to Jason's grave, but then he had a better idea. He stuck it in his pocket and went back to work.

At the end of the day, he cleaned up and returned the tools he had been using to the supply truck. He was exhausted, but it was a good kind of tired, he reflected. The machines had shut down for the night and he could hear again. Most of the other workers seemed to know each other, and they called out their goodbyes as they packed up and left.

The little girl was helping some of the adults pack up the food and water that had been set up for the volunteers. "Hey," he called out when he got close. The little girl looked up and skipped over at his beckoning. He knelt down to her level. "I found something really cool when I was cleaning up," he said, pulling out the strange stone.

The little girl's eyes grew wide. "Is it a treasure from the ruins?" she whispered excitedly, looking at the shiny green object.

A memory surfaced then, sweet but tinged with longing. It was a game he had often played with his brother when they were little, when their imaginations were bigger than their egos. The wreck of the town square was exactly the type of thing they would have imagined into ancient ruins, ripe for adventuring.

He blinked back the tears that sprang up unexpectedly and placed it into the little girl's palm. "I don't know much about treasure, so maybe you should have it," he said, hoping she couldn't hear the tremble in his voice. "I think you earned it today. You brought me water just when I needed it, every time."

The smile lit up her face. She clutched it tightly in her hand as she ran back to the others. "Mom! Mom! Look what I got!"

Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets and started the walk toward home. It was such a little thing to make that girl so happy – just a pretty stone.


End file.
